Beneath the Stars
by BellatrixLives
Summary: *BOTFA Spoilers* After her terrible loss in The Battle of the Five Armies, Tauriel struggles to cope with her seemingly pointless existence. She finds herself in a downward spiral, losing control of everything, when she finds help in the most unlikely of places. Her King. [Tauriel/Thranduil] M for later chapters.
1. Prologue

**Author's Note: **This fic is based solely off my knowledge from the movies, I have not read the books. Well, I read the Hobbit years ago, but that hardly counts any more. I have used the LOTR Wikia to research some of the lore I'm using, but don't count on 100% accuracy. This is fanfiction after all.

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><p>The world once so bright, vibrant, and <em>alive<em> has slipped away.

Meaning is lost.

Tauriel clings to Kili's lifeless form, wondering how she is still breathing when it feels as if her heart has been shattered, and her soul ripped from her body.

Tears stream down her cheeks, falling to land on her lost love's face.

She hears footsteps approaching and looks up, half hoping to find an Orc warrior standing over her, with a blade drawn.

_It would hurt less._

Instead, Tauriel is staring into the piercing eyes of her King.

"They want to bury him?" she asks quietly.

"Yes."

The ache in her chest grows, though she does not understand how that is possible, at the thought of Kili locked away in a darkened tomb.

"If this is love I do not want it," she says. "Take it from me, please!"

Something shifts in his eyes but he says nothing.

"Why does it hurt so much?" Tauriel begs, her eyes pleading for understanding.

Thranduil steps forward, studying the pair on the ground before him.

"Because it was real," he says finally.

Tauriel closes her eyes and drops her head. Just an hour earlier all she wanted was for her feelings to be acknowledged as true, but that acknowledgement has come too late and does nothing to ease her grief.

The funeral ceremony takes place deep in the caverns of Erebor. Three identical stone slabs sit side by side, each supporting one of the fallen.

Thorin is in the middle, with Fili and Kili on either side.

Tauriel stands back in the shadows, watching. She hopes that when the three are laid to rest in the tombs of their ancestors, Kili will be beside his brother. It's what he would have wanted.

Her eyes burn but no tears fall while the last rites are read. It's too painful to continue looking at Kili, and Tauriel instead scans the hall. The room is filled with dwarves lining the upper balconies and walkways, all wishing to pay respect to the King Under the Mountain and the fall of the Durin line.

Her gaze pauses on the rest of Thorin's company, standing not far from the stone pedestals holding their friends. Two are looking in her direction, watching her.

They are the ones who were present in Lake-town when she saved Kili's life from the Orc's poisoned arrow. They bow their head in her direction and, after a slight hesitation, she returns the gesture, wondering if they understand how deeply she feels this loss.

The Arkenstone is returned to the dwarves, and buried with Thorin, where it's power can longer corrupt.

When the ceremony ends Tauriel slips away, not wishing to make small talk.

She doesn't know where she is headed now that she is banished. She wonders if she should try to find Legolas, but almost immediately dismisses the idea. Tauriel suspects he left because of her.

It had long been evident Legolas cared for her; she just never realized how deeply that was. It was probably for the best they separate.

Reaching the front gate of Erebor, Tauriel steps outside and takes a deep swelling breath.

_Perhaps I can see a fire moon,_ she thinks sadly.

Suddenly she finds herself surrounded by guards. _Mirkwood _guards. One steps forward.

"Have you finished paying your respects to the fallen?" he asks.

"I have," she replies, voice raw and unsure.

"You are to come with us."

"But I—" she protests.

"By order of the King."

Tauriel's back straightens automatically and she is about to argue when realization hits her.

_I am being arrested._

Cursing herself silently, Tauriel can't believe she didn't see this coming.

_I drew my bow and aimed an arrow at my King's face… in front of the company he was commanding. An action such as this cannot be ignored._

She knows she could fight and get away from the four guards standing before her, but she chooses to instead go quietly.

"If my King commands," she says, bowing her head.

There has been enough blood shed today, and there is nothing waiting for her anyway. She may as well suffer for her crimes. At least it will be a different sort of pain to the one crackling through her body now.

Tauriel bows her head and falls into line with the guards.

They don't speak as they travel, at least, not to her. The four _do _speak to each other, recounting tales from the battle.

No shackles are placed on her wrists, nor do they ask for her dagger, but her jailers shoot her furtive looks when they think she won't see them.

Their expressions are accusing, though of what she is not entirely certain. Are they more upset she threatened their King, or that she dare fall in love with a dwarf?

_It doesn't matter, _she decides. _Nothing matters._

It takes them two days to reach the edge of the Mirkwood forest. One of the guards finally speaks to Tauriel, informing her they will travel close to the river, as the battle agitated the spiders and they have been seen in greater numbers. She nods once, but says nothing.

The sun dips low behind the trees and Tauriel briefly wonders if she'll see it again, or if she will be locked away in the dungeons, forced to live eternity in the darkness. She doesn't give it much thought, instead using all of her will power just to force one foot in front of the other.

The attack comes out of nowhere. One moment she is staring at the ground chanting "_left, right, left, right" _in her head, and the next she is flying backwards, landing hard on her back staring at an enormous spider as it approaches.

It's pincers clack loudly and she sees its fangs glistening. Tauriel wonders if it will be quick.

It is quick… for the spider.

One of the guards leaps onto the beast's back and drives a sword downward through the top of its head. The creature squeals and shudders before collapsing inches from Tauriel's feet.

"You're welcome," the guard tells her, pulling his weapon free.

"For what?" she mumbles under her breath, pushing herself to her feet.

The tiny flare of relief that blossomed in her chest at the sight of the spider is extinguished and they continue on their journey back to the palace.

The guards at the great gate salute her when they enter and she wonders how long it will take for word of her betrayal to circulate.

Once inside the palace halls Tauriel turns in the direction of the cells, but one of the guards, the one who saved her, catches her wrist.

"Captain," he says, and then nods his head in the other direction.

They lead her up further and further until she understands where they are going.

Tauriel is escorted to her bedchambers without another word being spoken. Three of the guards depart from there, just her _savior _staying behind. She says nothing to him, entering her room and closing the door behind her.

_So I am to stay here until my trial_.

Tauriel sighs deeply. This space, which once held so much comfort, now seems too large, empty, and quiet.

Only two things in the room currently speak to her, her bed, and the bottle of Dorwinion wine sitting on her desk.

Opening the bottle she takes the entire thing to bed with her, ignoring the silver goblet beside it.

_The King will probably have a hangover for my trial, why shouldn't I?_


	2. Aftermath

The next morning comes and goes, all with Tauriel sleeping off her bottle of wine uninterrupted. When she finally wakes, the light streaming in her room tells her it is late afternoon.

She rubs the sleep from her eyes and stretches her aching muscles.

Pain comes flooding back with the memories of all she's lost and she finds herself wishing she were still asleep.

Eyeing her nightstand, Tauriel sighs at the empty bottled laying on its side.

Forcing herself to move, she crosses to the door and peeks outside. A guard is standing to the left of her door, different from the ones who traveled with her.

Her sudden appearance startles him, but he comes to attention quickly.

"Is there something you need, Captain?" he asks.

"N— actually, yes," she says, deciding to test her luck. "I require more wine."

The guard does not reply and Tauriel slinks back into her room, knowing it was a long shot.

Despite the waning sun, the room feels far too bright.

_How does the world carry on when mine has ended?_ She wonders bitterly, storming around the room and drawing all of the curtains closed.

_Will this pain fade? Or will I feel like this the rest of my immortal life?_

Panic seizes her and her heart thuds painfully against her ribs.

Tauriel slumps onto the edge of her bed, hand clutching her chest, and tries to calm her ragged breathing.

_Kili._

The tears come once more, streaking down her face, silent but for her labored breath.

_It is my fault. If you hadn't tried to save me…_

There is a knock on her door, and before Tauriel can summon the words to order them gone, a servant enters carrying a large platter.

"Your dinner, Captain," the maid says, giving her a concerned glance as she sets the tray on the desk.

Unable to speak, Tauriel gestures the young woman away, refusing to meet her eyes as the maid leaves.

_Why have I not yet been summoned? _

She cannot fathom why she is being left in her rooms to await punishment. Not that she is eager to be punished, but to feel anything aside from what she feels now will be a relief.

_Perhaps that is why I have not been summoned. My King knows I am suffering. Or perhaps he is just trying to be dramatic by keeping me in suspense._

Another thought occurs to her, that maybe he is tied up in tending to their dead and wounded, and a trial for a disobedient captain of the guard is not a high priority.

Whatever the reason, she decides she does not care. Especially once she spots the new bottle of wine on her dinner tray.

Completely ignoring the food, and once again a glass, Tauriel grabs the new bottle of wine and returns to bed.

She sits with her back pressed to the headboard, blankets piled around her in a cocoon, and watches as her room slips into blackness, pulling her with it.

X

War is a messy business… and a tragic one.

Thranduil finds himself almost drowning in all of his duties in the weeks following the battle. One hundred and thirty-seven members of his army perished in the fight.

_One hundred and thirty-seven, _he thinks, his stomach rolling.

Men and dwarves scoff, thinking one hundred and thirty-seven casualties out of the two thousand troops he sent to fight is a victory.

_Of course they would. Those who are born with the axe named 'mortality' over their head do not think twice of those who perish in battle for a _just _cause._

Thranduil cannot stop thinking of those he lost, though. Each of their names are forever burned into his memory. How could he forget any of those he doomed to a death they otherwise would never have seen?

_One hundred and thirty-seven immortal souls now extinguished, and all under my watch… for a handful of jewels._

In addition to the sorrow he feels for those lost, Thranduil also feels guilt. Guilt because he is still grateful for what was finally accomplished.

His hand slips into the inner pocket of his robe and he traces his fingers across his prize. Stroking the jewels as if they were a talisman, which, in a way they are.

It has been a long day of sorting out funerary details for those lost, and he is grateful to have a moment's peace. While his soldiers have already been laid to rest, there is work going into erecting a monument in their honor and he is having a difficult time settling the final details.

He lounges in his council room, closes his eyes, and imagines slipping away for a ride in the moonlight. The image doesn't last long; both due to the sad memory of his elk, Linor, being lost, and the footsteps he hears echoing down the stairs.

"Yes?" he asks, voice cool and weary.

"Your Majesty, I am sorry to trouble you," one of his aides begins.

Thranduil sighs and opens his eyes, staring at the unusually short elf before him.

"What is it, Nimmon?"

Flustered at hearing his name spoken so dismissively, the elf rushes to speak, not wishing to impose longer than necessary.

"It is Tauriel, your Majesty. I did not wish to burden you, but her maid informs me she has not eaten since her return to the palace. All of her trays are left untouched," he explains. "We… don't know what to do."

Thranduil's head cocks to the side and his expression grows cold.

"She has not eaten in _two weeks_ and you just now bring me this information?"

"I—I'm sorry, your Majesty. We didn't— didn't think—"

"No, you did not."

Thranduil rises from his seat and strides past the aide.

"I will handle the situation from here, as it is apparently beyond you," he says. Then as an afterthought, "send Tauriel's maid to her chambers.

Priding himself for knowing his castle inside and out, Thranduil heads straight to Tauriel's room, despite never having actually been there. Several servants stumble and bow, surprised to see him in this part of the palace, but he ignores them.

There is a guard standing outside her door, just as he'd instructed. While no doubt surprised to see the King, the guard hides her surprise well and comes to attention at his approach.

Thranduil juts his chin at the door and the guard immediately opens it, not bothering to knock. The King does not need to knock.

When he enters, his nose crinkles. The air is thick with the smell of sweat and sickness. The curtains and windows are closed, and there is no light in the room.

Purposefully he marches across the room and tears the blinds open, filling the room with the light of the setting sun.

There is a groan from the bed and the clink of bottles as the mattress shifts.

"I said keep them closed," a voice mumbles from under a mound of blankets.

"Tauriel, rise," Thranduil commands, approaching the edge of her bed.

She pops straight up in bed, her hair wild and matted, and tries to focus her eyes on him in the unfamiliar light.

"M—My King," she stammers, flinging the blankets back.

She tosses her legs over the side of the bed and sends two wine bottles crashing to the floor. Thranduil eyes them with distaste. When Tauriel tries to stand she must grow dizzy, for she topples forward catching herself by grabbing onto Thranduil's arm.

She lets go as if burned and tries to right herself, swaying dangerously.

"Forgive me," she murmurs, eyes still unfocused.

He studies her, taking in her haggard appearance. It's clear she has not bathed since her return, and her starvation is becoming evident as well. Her high cheekbones are more pronounced than ever, and her eyes are sunken and bloodshot.

"I have come to invite you to dine with me this evening," he says walking to the end of the bed once he's certain she will not fall again.

She blinks slowly, trying to form a coherent reply.

"While I do appreciate—" she begins, but he cuts her off.

"When I said 'invite' I was being unclear. This is not a request."

"I— yes, my King."

Thranduil turns on heel and strides out of the room, passing Tauriel's maid as he does so.

"Make sure she is bathed, and appropriately dressed," he tells the woman, and then continues on his way.

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><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>First of all, wow! I have to say, considering how little I can find of this pairing I am surprised by the warm reception I've received so far, thank you. All of your reviews are greatly appreciated. I love knowing there are others actively shipping these two. Second, not all chapters will be this short, I was just eager to post another one! You can expect updates at least once a week on this fic, but honestly I am loving writing it so much it could be more often.

On another note, I like to practice my (beginner) photoshop skills by making graphics for my ships. If you are interested I made a Tauriel/Thranduil wallpaper today, and you can find the link from my profile.


	3. Dine With Me

Tauriel watches as the King leaves, blinking her eyes rapidly, trying to clear the fog clouding them. Her knees wobble and she holds on to her bedpost to keep her on her feet.

Her maid comes in right as the King exits, and gives Tauriel an appraising look.

"Oh, my," she says quietly. "We had best get to work if you're to be ready in time."

Tauriel wants to protest, to say she doesn't wish to go anyway, but doesn't have the strength for it. Instead she lets the maid wrap an arm around her and lead her to the adjoining bathroom.

"What's your name?" Tauriel asks.

"Arodeth," the maid says, getting Tauriel to perch on the edge of a stool once they are in the bathroom.

Arodeth sets to work drawing a bath, adding scented oils to the water as the copper tub fills. Tauriel is lucky to be living in a section of the kingdom that has direct access to the flowing hot spring beneath them. Many other elves must make do with the communal pools and bathhouses.

"Do you need help?" Arodeth asks.

"No, I can do it."

Tauriel starts by trying to untie the lacing on her leather bodice, but her fingers fumble and shake making it almost impossible.

Arodeth places her hands over Tauriel's, staying them.

"There is no shame in needing assistance."

Tauriel looks into the other woman's eyes, and upon finding nothing but care and understanding in their dark hue, drops her own hands and nods.

The maid helps Tauriel out of her soiled clothes, and supports her elbow as she climbs into the bath.

"I'll have these cleaned," Arodeth says, picking up Tauriel's garments. "Or… burned," she adds quietly, wrinkling her nose.

The warm water is so soothing on her tired muscles, and the lilac scent so refreshing, that Tauriel finds herself lifting from her fog.

With her blood pumping and mind restarting, her thoughts drift once more to Kili. The tears fall freely, and silently, streaming down her face and dripping into the bath water.

"Oh, sweet child," Arodeth says, softly.

The stool creaks loudly as it is drug across the floor to sit behind the head of the tub, and the maid takes a seat. She begins humming softly as she sets to work washing Tauriel's hair.

The tune she sings is old, yet familiar somehow.

After a few more strains, Tauriel recognizes it as a lullaby. It's one her mother used to sing to her. At least, she thinks it is. Memories of her mother are so distant.

She tries not to think of it. The last thing Tauriel needs is to open old wounds while so grievously injured from her recent one.

Her eyes drift close and she blocks out everything but for that melody and the gentle tug of fingers working through her hair.

When Arodeth is done, she instructs Tauriel to clean herself, and then slips out of the bathroom to find a change of clothes.

Tauriel does as she's told, feeling somehow lighter than she had when she first climbed into the tub.

When she gets out and towels off her mind drifts again, the fog rolling back in. She's aware of being given clothing to put on, and Arodeth helping lace her up, but she's not aware enough to realize how ill-fitting the gown is, despite coming from her own tailored wardrobe.

Tauriel feels her hair being brushed and braided, but does nothing to help ready herself.

Then, the next thing she knows, she's being led to meet the King by the guard from outside her door.

x

Thranduil is already waiting in the dining chamber when the guard arrives escorting Tauriel.

They are eating in the third of three dining halls the King normally uses. The first two are much larger, suitable for hosting guests and foreign dignitaries, while the third is much smaller, intimate almost. It is rare for guests to be welcomed here.

He notices immediately that the problems he saw with Tauriel earlier go much further than poor grooming. Now that she is cleaned up, hair brushed, and wearing clean clothing, he can truly see the toll the last few weeks have taken on her.

The gown she wears Thranduil recognizes as one she wore a month previously to a full moon banquet. Where it had been quite tailored, hugging her form closely, it now drapes loosely off of her.

Her gaze is hollow, and skin ashen and pale, even by elven standards.

Thranduil swallows his anger, furious her condition was not brought to him sooner, but not wishing to take it out on her.

"Good evening, Tauriel," he says, approaching her.

With one nod the guard is dismissed, leaving the King and his Captain alone.

"My King," she responds, her voice hoarse.

Tauriel manages to give a clumsy bow, but Thranduil gets the feeling she isn't really there with him.

"Come sit and join me."

Thranduil takes his place at the head of the table and signals Tauriel to sit to his right. She does so, but refuses to meet his gaze.

The table is covered in a spread of different, hearty, dishes. Much more than the two of them will need, but he wanted to make sure there would be something that may appeal to her.

Tauriel keeps her gaze trained down at her lap, and unsure what to say or how to begin, Thranduil pours them each a drink.

Her hand is on her glass before he's finished pouring and she takes a deep drink, before promptly snorting into her cup.

"I did not think his majesty drank water with dinner," she says quietly, placing her cup back on the table as if it burned.

_I think you've had quite enough wine,_ he thinks with a small smirk.

"Sometimes it is best to help keep a clear mind."

"And sometimes a clear mind can be a burden," she responds.

Thranduil serves himself a plate of rabbit stew, and nods in Tauriel's direction.

"Please help yourself."

She looks across the table but makes no movement to get any food.

With a long-suffering sigh, Thranduil scoops a large ladle of stew onto her plate as well.

"Eat," he commands.

At first he doesn't think she will obey, but after a moment a shaky hand picks up her spoon and she slowly begins to eat.

It's only once she is on her third or fourth bite that Thranduil himself begins to eat, watching her closely as he does so.

Something feels off. She is physically here with him, but he has the feeling she is still far away. This bothers him more than he can explain.

_Doesn't she realize I am trying to help?_

When se clears her plate of stew he passes her a roll.

"Eat," he repeats.

She glances at him briefly, but looks away as she takes the roll, tearing small pieces off of it and chewing slowly.

When she finishes she returns her gaze to her lap and doesn't speak.

For someone normally so outspoken, and full of fire and drive, it is disconcerting to see her so lifeless. Thranduil frowns, his stomach tossing at the thought of losing someone else after so much death and bloodshed already.

"Tauriel," he begins, but she does not look at him.

He reaches out and places his hand gently across hers.

x

Tauriel inhales sharply.

She jolts, and her skin prickles where his hand lies across hers. The fog that she had so welcomed begins to lift and she can see everything in the room with a startling new clarity.

She looks at where their hands are intertwined, and then looks up at her King. There is a softness she's never seen before in his face, and a sadness.

"Tauriel, I have been where you are," he is saying. "Now is not the time to give up. You must fight."

Her chest hurts.

"Why?" she asks, meeting his piercing stare. "What is the point?"

"You are needed."

She snorts, and gives a humorless laugh.

"To make an example of?"

"I'm sorry?" he asks, seeming genuinely confused.

"Is that why you invited me here? You just need me to eat and be healthy so it doesn't look as if you treat your prisoners poorly when I go on trial."

"What are you talking about? What trial?"

"My trial. For— for treason… or for threatening my King? I drew my bow and aimed an arrow at your face. _In front_ of the company you were leading. I know I was wrong, so I won't try to sway you, and I won't ask for leniency."

"What? You are not going to trial," he says, incredulous.

"But I—but you… I was brought back under armed guard, and there is a soldier stationed outside of my room."

"I did not want you travelling alone back to the palace in the condition you were in, and the guard is there in case you need anything."

Tauriel stares at him in bewilderment.

"I don't understand. I disobeyed orders. I was banished. I _threatened _you."

"I think we both know you were hardly a threat," he says, cocking his head to the side.

She opens her mouth to make a snide comment, but closes it again and rolls her eyes.

"I don't understand," she repeats. "Why would you let my actions go unpunished?"

Thranduil's face grows somber.

"Because I understand why you did what you did," he says quietly, his thumb lightly stroking the back of her hand, "and I think you've suffered quite enough."

The compassion in his voice is something she has not heard in many, many years and it brings fresh tears to her eyes.

_This is not the man I know._

"Even if he was only a dwarf," the King adds.

She's not sure why, but the way he says it, so dismissive, and dramatic… _so Thranduil_… Tauriel finds herself laughing.

_This. This is the man I know._

She laughs long and hard until her mirth gives way to a fresh wave of sadness and her laughter turns to sobs.

Thranduil squeezes her hand and when she looks up at him he is holding out a handkerchief and giving her a sad smile.

"He was quite tall for a dwarf," he says softly, and she nods and responds with a watery smile.

Later, after he convinces her to eat dessert, the King himself escorts her back to her room.

"Thank you," she tells him at her door.

"What for?"

"For making me smile. For not prosecuting me for treason."

"Well, just try not to commit any more treason. I can't let it slide twice. People will think I've grown soft."

She gives him an exaggerated nod.

Retreating to her chambers, she is just about to close the door, but pauses.

"Does it go away?" she asks. "The pain?"

He shakes his head slowly, his mouth a thin line.

"No," he replies, "it is always there. Though, it does grow easier to bear with time."

"Thank you for your honesty."

Thranduil bows his head to her and then turns and walks away.

It is the first night since her return to Mirkwood that Tauriel goes to bed without a bottle of Dorwinion Wine as her companion.

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><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>Thank you guys so much for the amazing outpouring of support for this story. I am so glad you are enjoying it so far. All reviews are greatly appreciated, and I do read every one of them! I know things are dark right now, but they will improve with time. Please let me know what you think!


	4. Night Blooming

The next day Thranduil finds his mind wandering, consistently ending up back on his Captain. No matter how much he tries to urge himself to stay focused on the task at hand, finalizing the memorial of his fallen soldiers, and ensuring all the widows are well cared for, he inevitably ends up thinking about Tauriel.

It seemed like there was real progress made the night before, but if he knows anything about progress after the loss of a loved one, he knows that relapse is not out of the question. It is because of this knowledge and his wandering mind, Tauriel's matronly maid, Arodeth, who has never even spoken to the king before, finds herself summoned to a private conference.

Thranduil is sitting behind his desk in his council room when Arodeth is shown in. She stops to stand in the middle of the room, her hands fidgeting despite the tall, cool, demeanor she is trying to present.

"Arodeth, isn't it?" he asks, glancing up from his scrolls.

"Yes, your majesty," she says, bowing.

"You're probably wondering why I have summoned you."

"I'm so sorry," the maid bursts, stepping forward. "I really tried to get her to eat. I even asked around to find out her favorite foods, and when that didn't work I begged someone to alert you… or someone who could help her."

"That's not why you're here, though I do appreciate the care you've shown for Tauriel. I merely wanted to ask you how she was doing today?"

"Oh," the maid sighs, sounding relieved, but then she continues with a less relieved sounding, "oh. Well, she hasn't drank any more wine since before you called on her yesterday—"

"That's something."

"—but she didn't touch breakfast or lunch again," she finishes with a grimace.

"I see."

Thranduil muses whether it was just his own dealings with loss that tipped him off something was still wrong, or if it was something else entirely.

"Do you have any suggestions as to what we—I can do?" Arodeth asks.

He nods.

"Tell Tauriel I insist upon her joining me for dinner once more."

"Yes, your majesty," the maid says, bowing.

Thranduil nods her dismissal and returns his attention to his scrolls, or at least pretends to.

"And can I just say," Arodeth begins, drawing his eyes back up, "how wonderful I think it is for you to take such a special interest in her well being?"

"Special interest? I wouldn't go so far as to call it a special interest… more of a general interest. For the Kingdom. She is a very valuable member of the Guard."

An arched eyebrow, almost rivaling his own arching abilities, tells him that the maid doesn't quite believe his rambling. He dismisses her again, grateful that this time she leaves.

He has work to attend; work that certainly does not involve his thoughts zeroing in on one suffering Captain, when there are so many heartbroken members of his realm at the moment.

X

Tauriel wakes much earlier than she would like to, and with her head less muddled than it has been in weeks. She's not fond of it. Waking earlier gives her more time to dwell on thoughts she'd rather not, and less muddled means dwelling with clarity.

She contemplates walking the corridors, a habit she picked as a child when she was unable to sleep, but that is a hobby best left for midnight strolls unless she wants to be stopped by everyone she passes.

Not in the mood for polite discussion, Tauriel tries to lose herself in a book. She gets three pages in before some reference causes her mind to wander to Kili. Choosing another book she makes it five pages before she's thinking of her parents.

_Why does one tragedy insist on dredging up all tragedy in your life?_

She throws the book across the room, and it hits the wall just as the door opens and Arodeth steps in. The maid jumps visibly and Tauriel grimaces.

"I suppose I should have knocked, sorry."

"No, I'm sorry. That wasn't aimed at you," Tauriel apologizes.

Arodeth had been in and out all day under some pretense or another. Dusting, changing the bed linens now that Tauriel was out of the way, delivering food that went untouched.

Tauriel wonders what pretense brings the maid to check on her this time.

"My Lady, the King would like to extend another invitation for you to join him for dinner tonight."

"Is that an actual invitation? Or is it the kind of invitation I am not allowed to decline?"

"He did not say, but I hardly think it proper manners to decline our King anything he ask," Arodeth says, a bit indignant.

Tauriel sighs.

"I suppose I should go. He _could_ still charge me with treason," she adds under her breath.

"Treason?" the maid asks, closing the door quickly.

Feeling the beginning of a smirk, Tauriel can't help herself; she loves how uptight the older elves around here can be and her and Legolas loved to tease them.

"Oh yes. I threatened the King. I aimed an arrow at his face during the battle."

Arodeth gasps and claps a hand over her mouth, and Tauriel has to turn away to hide her small smile.

"Well, in that case you had best not decline his offer. In fact, I expect you to be on your best behavior!" the maid chastises.

Normally being ordered around would set Tauriel on edge, but something about this woman is comforting and she actually enjoys listening to the tirade about manners as she is dressed and primped for dinner.

Tonight she pays closer attention to what she is wearing. A flowing emerald gown, that has much more flow than it should. She didn't realize just how much weight she dropped since the battle. Upon inspecting her face and finding just how unhealthy she looks, Tauriel vows to make herself eat.

_Kili would not want this._

Arodeth accompanies her to just outside the dining room, whispering tips on being a respectful dinner guest along the way.

They are dining in the same room as the previous night, only tonight Tauriel is much more aware of its beauty. Lavishly decorated in hanging silks and elaborate carvings, the room clearly reflects the King's refined tastes.

Speaking of the King, he is waiting for her, draped in green and silver, and rises when she enters.

Tauriel offers a bow, and Thranduil signals she again take the seat to his right.

"Good evening, my King," she says taking a seat. "Thank for the invitation. You honor me two nights in a row."

"Good evening," he says, eyeing her almost suspiciously. "I was hoping to inquire after your well being."

"I'm doing much better," she lies.

"Tauriel."

"I'm— not doing any worse," she amends.

Thranduil nods, finding that an acceptable answer and pours her a glass of water.

"Please help yourself," he says, gesturing a table full of food.

Tonight she listens and fills her plate, just briefly catching the look of satisfaction on the King's face.

They begin eating in silence and Tauriel has no idea what to say. She's not entirely sure why she's here, or why the King seems to be so concerned with her.

"I have been… distracted," she says finally, breaking the silence. "Caught up in my own problems. I never asked, how many? At the battle. How many did we—?"

"One hundred and thirty-seven losses," he says stiffly.

Tauriel bows her head, ashamed she never once considered the fate of her people, so consumed in her own grief she was.

"I'm sorry. A tragic loss."

Dinner grows quiet again, both lost in their own thoughts.

"Have you considered when you will be coming back?" the King asks eventually.

"Coming back?"

"To the guard. I know you need time to grieve, and I will not rush you, but you are needed. Now more than ever."

"No, I really hadn't thought about it. I guess I didn't realize avoiding treason included keeping my place among the guard."

"You're one of the best, it would be foolish to let that go to waste."

"Thank you," she says, feeling her cheeks flush.

While she had been the youngest person ever named a Captain of the Guard, she'd never received a sincere compliment on her skills before from the King.

"Since Legolas has left us, we need all the talent we can get. His is a difficult space to fill," he says, voice stiff and neutral, but when she looks into his eyes she can see the emotion swimming just below the surface.

"Why did he leave?" she asks.

Thranduil's eyes harden, and he turns his gaze to his plate.

"I think we both know the answer to that."

Feeling her throat tighten, Tauriel sets her fork down and picks up her goblet, feigning a drink and trying not to draw attention to herself. She knows her guilt must be written all over her face.

The guilt fades quickly enough, and she feels the need to defend herself.

"I never encouraged him," she swears. "He's been like a brother to me. And— and I was always more interested in my training, and then in the guard than in anything of that sort."

"Not always, if recent activities are taken into account."

Her mouth pops open in shock.

Seeming to catch his mistake, Thranduil tries to speak, but she cuts him off.

"Tauriel—"

"Thank you for dinner," she says coolly, throwing her napkin on the table. "I'll show myself out.

Before he says another word, Tauriel storms across the room and out the door, rushing so he won't see the angry tears on her cheeks.

She's thankful Arodeth isn't around when she returns to her bedchamber, sure the maid would have some relentless commentary on the rudeness of walking out on one's king.

Tauriel desperately wants to tell the guard to have a bottle, or two, of wine or honey mead or anything sent up to help her sleep… to forget… but she knows that would likely bring Arodeth as well. Instead she strips out of her dinner clothes, undoes her braids, and climbs into bed.

Sleep does not come easily, and when she does finally manage to drift off she is haunted by nightmares; first of Kili, then of her parents.

She wakes in the middle of the night gasping, and covered in sweat. She needs fresh air and something else.

Tauriel climbs out of bed and slips into a long white robe. She's not concerned with modesty at this hour, where she's going no one will see her. After grabbing a brass key from her desk drawer she peeks outside her door to find the guard gone. Feeling lucky, she slips out unnoticed.

X

He doesn't know why he said what he did. He knows it was cruel, and that it hurt her, which had not been his intent. He just grows so upset when thinking about how far Legolas is from home, and how unsafe.

Thranduil sinks onto a stone bench, and tilts his head back to look at the stars.

He hardly ever comes here anymore, never finding the time, but tonight he needed the light and the comfort it offers.

His private garden. Nestled at the top of the palace and securely hidden from sight if any enemy scouts are watching.

_So peaceful._

The air is filled with the aromatics of the flowers surrounding him; Evening Primrose, Moon Flowers, and Dragon Fruit Flowers. All of which only bloom at night, under the light of the moon.

Inhaling deeply he drops his gaze to the stone pond at his feet and feels his heart jump into his throat at the reflection he sees.

"Gilrin," he breathes, jumping to his feet and turning around.

She's standing before him, wearing a crown of starlight, with her gauzy white robe glowing.

"My King!"

Thranduil blinks in confusion, and his senses clear.

"Tauriel?"

"I'm sorry," she rushes, "I didn't think anyone would be up here."

"How did you get up here?" he asks.

She bites her lip and holds up a brass key, identical to the one in his pocket.

"Legolas gave it to me. I'm sorry, you can have it back."

Tauriel tentatively walks over to him, and then reaches out to push the key into his hand.

"S—sorry, again," she whispers, dropping her head and turning away.

Thranduil, acting without thinking, catches her wrist as she turns.

"You don't have to go, please."

He releases her wrist and she turns back to face him slowly, pulling her robe tighter around her.

Stepping back, he gestures to the bench and she eyes him questioningly before slowly moving to sit down.

Thranduil sits beside her, feeling foolish, and wondering if she heard him when he saw her reflection.

"Allow me to apologize," he says softly, "for my callous remark this evening at dinner. I allowed myself to take my anger towards my foolish son, and direct it at you, most cruelly. I hope you can forgive me."

"Yes, I forgive you. I'm worried about him too."

Swallowing, Thranduil fiddles with the hem of his jacket, wondering if he should make an excuse and leave her to have the alone time she was seeking. Curiosity gets the best of him, though, and instead he decides to pry.

"What brings you up here in the middle of the night?"

"Nightmares. And starlight," she replies. "It usually helps clear my thoughts."

"Do you… wish to talk about it?" he asks.

Tauriel looks up at him and he feels the oddest sensation building in his stomach when he looks into her eyes, reflecting the night sky back at him.

"It was about Kili," she starts, and the sensation he was feeling disappears all at once, "at least it began that way. I watched him die again, only this time I didn't recognize the Orc who murdered him… at first. Then my surroundings shifted, and I was back in my childhood village watching my parents… watching them die too."

On its own accord, Thranduil's hand reaches out for hers, trying to lend some comfort.

"I've always had bits and pieces of what happened to them haunt my dreams, but this was different. This time I saw the whole thing."

He remembers that day clearly, and wishes she didn't.

"You saved my life that day," she says, squeezing his hand. "No one ever told me it was you. I knew that it was you who welcomed me into your home, but I never realized it was you who rode in on your elk and beheaded the Orc that murdered my parents. The one that was about to kill me too."

"I didn't think you'd ever be burdened by those memories," he sighs. "You were so young."

He can still picture that ten-year-old little girl, an infant by elven standards, cowering and looking up in fear as that foul creature descended on her. His blood had boiled and it took no time to dispatch the beast.

Thranduil had scooped the child up himself and rode her to safety. The way she clung to him, so desperate, and so sad, he knew he couldn't just send her away for someone else to care for. He brought her home instead. She was raised and trained in his palace, and it's not something he has ever truly regretted.

"Is it normal for one loss, to bring up others you have suffered?" she asks.

"I think it depends on how personal the loss is, but I would say yes, I think in your case what you are experiencing is very normal."

Tauriel closes her eyes and tilts her head back, inhaling deeply.

"How are you feeling now?" he asks after a few moments.

"Honestly, I am feeling better. At least well enough to sleep."

"Would you like some time alone up here?"

"I don't want to chase you off," Tauriel tells him. "It is _your _garden."

"No, no, not at all. I think I am going to turn in. Will you be alright?"

Thranduil wants to give her space, but he also worries about leaving her alone with so many ghosts of her past haunting her.

"Yes, I'll be fine."

"Here," he says, offering her key back to her, "keep it. You may need it again."

"Thank you."

He bows his head to her, and is about to bid her goodnight, when she interrupts.

"Who is Gilrin?" she questions.

_She did hear me._

"Was," Thranduil replies softly. "She was my wife."

With that he takes his leave, trying not to remember the pain Tauriel is going through, and the pain he knows all too well.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>That was a _much _longer chapter than normal, but I really wanted to find the perfect cut off point. Thank you so much for the reviews, I am so glad you seem to be enjoying the story! Happy New Year and please let me know what you thought of this chapter!

Gilrin - (Gill-rinn) Meaning Lady Crowned with Stars in Elvish.


	5. We Remember

Despite her stating she felt ready to sleep, Tauriel finds herself sitting in the garden until just before the break of dawn. She would have probably stayed longer if it weren't for the possibility she would be seen wandering about the castle in her robe.

Stealthily she returns to her room, noting there is still no guard at her door, thankfully. She slips into bed just as the morning rays break past the horizon, pulling blankets up to cover her face.

It feels like no time has passed when there is a knock on her door and Arodeth comes bustling in, carrying a breakfast platter. Tauriel groans, but urges herself back out of bed, remembering her promise to eat.

One would think Tauriel was presenting gifts of diamonds at the way Arodeth beams at her picking over breakfast.

"Is everything to your liking?" the maid asks, smiling.

"Yes, it's fine, thank you."

"Please let me know if there is anything else you need!"

The other woman's cheery disposition is almost too much for how tired Tauriel feels, so she attempts a smile and sends Arodeth on her way.

Not much food is needed to fill her up, and she gets a glimpse at just how much her stomach has shrank.

_How I'm supposed to return to the Guard in this shape I have no idea,_ she thinks. _It is going to take a lot of training to make up for the muscles I've lost._

Just the thought of all that hard work, and energy required to train, has Tauriel groaning and crawling back to bed.

_At least I ate_, she tells herself. _That's something, right? One step at a time._

She returns the covers over her head and within minutes falls asleep, not waking until Arodeth returns at lunch with another tray of food.

Tauriel does not feel like eating again, her stomach still stretched from breakfast, but she suspects skipping meals is a sure fire way to earn another dinner with the King, and she's not feeling up to social interaction.

Again she forces herself to eat, under the ever-watchful eye of her smiling maid.

"What is it?" Tauriel snaps, weary of being watched.

"I have something for you," Arodeth says, smiling. "I was going to wait until you finished eating, but at that rate we'll be here all week."

The maid steps into the hallway and returns carrying Tauriel's daggers.

Tauriel frowns as she accepts them, slowly withdrawing one from its sheath.

"I had them cleaned and sharpened," Arodeth tells her. "I thought you'd like them ready for when you return to training."

Despite wanting to thank the maid for her thoughtfulness, Tauriel finds no words able to form. As she stares down at the blade in her hand her mind replays her fight with Bolg, and she is hit with a wave of guilt so crippling she almost collapses.

_I'm the one who called out for Kili. He was handling his own just fine, but I called out for him and he came looking. It's my fault. If I had only kept my mouth shut, he would still be alive… even if I wouldn't be._

In her heart she knows she would gladly trade places with Kili.

Swallowing loudly, her throat feeling oddly thick, Tauriel sheaths the weapon and sets the pair of daggers on her desk.

"Thank you," she forces herself to say. "I don't think I'm quite ready to train yet, but when I am, I'm glad to be prepared."

The maid gives her a sad smile and reaches out to pat her arm.

After she's gone, Tauriel can't bring herself to look in the direction of her desk, and situates herself on the farthest side of the room from it.

The day passes so slowly it feels as if time has stopped altogether.

As the sun begins to set, Tauriel starts to feel claustrophobic. The walls of her room press in towards her, and the daggers on the desk begin to feel like the embodiment of her guilty conscience.

Panic wells in her chest, and before she can stop herself she is fleeing from her room. She vaguely registers the guard outside her room calling after her, but she ignores him. The only thing that matters is the weight of the brass key in her hand.

Despite no forethought or planning, Tauriel coincidentally set out during the time most elves are sitting down to dinner. She only passes a few people in the corridors, and while they give her curious glances, no one stops her.

She doesn't breath freely until she bursts into the rooftop garden, catching sight of the first star of the evening shining above.

X

"Yes, yes, that will be fine," Thranduil says, sighing sadly. "I think that is the last of it then. Everything is set?"

"Yes, your majesty," Nimmon assures him with a bow.

Thranduil dismisses him, and pours himself a glass of wine.

_Now that work is done,_ he thinks as he takes a sip.

"Your majesty?"

Taking a deep breath and setting his cup back down, Thranduil looks up and finds Tauriel's maid standing before him, looking especially nervous.

"Don't tell me she's stopped eating again?" he asks.

"No, she actually ate both breakfast and lunch," Arodeth says. "It's just that now… she's missing."

"What do you mean _she's missing?_"

His eyes flash, and voice goes cold as steel. When the maid shirks, he tries to soften his tone.

_There is a difference in what it takes to cow a fellow diplomat, and what it takes to get your servant to speak._

"What happened?" he questions, softer.

"I don't know. When I arrived to bring her dinner the guard said she had run out and didn't tell him where she was going. He didn't follow because you told him to guard the room."

Thranduil tries not to roll his eyes and just barely succeeds.

"What is there to guard if she is absent?"

Arodeth doesn't respond.

_Where would she—?_

"Take the rest of the night off," he instructs. "I know where she is. There is nothing to be concerned about."

"She's alright, isn't she?"

"I suspect she just needs to clear her mind." He cocks his head to the side as he studies the woman before him. "You truly care for her, don't you?"

Arodeth nods once.

"I'd argue I'm not the only one," she says, giving him a sly smirk.

Before he can ask 'what is that supposed to mean' she excuses herself.

Without ever consciously deciding to go, Thranduil finds himself quietly slipping through the door leading to his private garden.

It's a quiet evening, save for the chirping of insects and the muffled sobs coming from the pond.

Keeping light on his feet, Thranduil weaves his way through the flowers, trying to get a closer look without revealing himself. What he sees makes his chest ache, though whether from sorrow, sympathy, or something else entirely, he's not certain.

Tauriel is siting on the ground, illuminated by the light of the moon. Her arm is resting on the edge of the pond, supporting her head, as she skims the water with her fingers.

Looking at her now, Thranduil doesn't know how he, even briefly, mistook her for his late wife.

Though both beautiful, the two women do not resemble each other in the slightest. Where Tauriel is kissed by fire, Gilrin had silver locks resembling his own. She had a soft face, instead of the sculpted angles and high cheekbones. Gilrin was taller than Tauriel as well and, though much older, she carried an innocence the Silvan Elf did not.

With all of the loss and sadness hanging over the kingdom, Thranduil suspects he let himself slip into reminiscence. Something he tries to avoid at all costs.

Not thinking about it, he finds himself moving closer. Gliding soundlessly through the vegetation, trying to be nearer to his forlorn Captain.

He must not be as quiet as he thinks he is, for Tauriel sits up suddenly, looking around as if she heard something.

"Hello?" she calls quietly.

Thranduil freezes, debating on whether to reveal himself or not.

"Kili?"

Her voice is less of a question, and more of a wish. Thranduil doesn't move, even going so far as to hold his breath.

"I'm sorry," Tauriel whispers. "Had I but listened, and kept my distance, you might still be here."

He wants to step out and assure her she is not to blame, but suspects she'd find his counsel more shocking, and surprisingly invasive, than anything.

X

Tauriel spends much less time in the garden tonight. She's not sure what it is, but she felt safer tonight. Protected. Watched over.

When she returns to her room, now unguarded, she has no problems falling into a dreamless slumber, and when she wakes the next morning she feels oddly energetic.

She argues that it probably has something to do with actually having eaten the day before, but part of her wonders if her garden guardian lent her new strength.

When Arodeth arrives with breakfast, she is thrilled to see Tauriel up and dressed.

"Look at you, Miss Ray of Sunshine," the maid squeals, delighted.

"That might be stretching it."

"Are you hungry, dear?"

"Famished, actually," Tauriel replies.

Tauriel seats herself and eats breakfast with a vigor she hasn't felt in a while. As she eats, she listens to Arodeth chatter away about the weather, about the renovation to the bathing pools, about pretty much anything all with out hitting a sensitive topic. Tauriel is grateful for the way the maid keeps the silence away, giving her anything to think about aside from that which she wants to avoid.

As she is clearing her plate, Arodeth tears open Tauriel's wardrobe and begins thumbing through the contents.

"I have another invitation for you," she says, "from the King."

Tauriel fights a groan.

"I'm eating again! What else does he want?"

Not that she isn't honored by his attention, and it is in fact something she used to long for, but she doesn't know how to handle him lately. He's normally so guarded, standoffish, barking orders at her whenever she is within earshot.

Tauriel knows how to handle _that _king. She's been doing it for six hundred years. What she doesn't know how to handle is this new man, so caring and concerned. It puts her on edge, waiting to say something wrong and end up berated, or banished again.

"He wanted me to inform you that memorial service for the fallen is this evening, and he would like you to be there."

"Oh," she says, heart sinking. "Of course."

Her stomach turns uncomfortably and the calm she'd awoken with seems to have vanished.

Arodeth has finished straightening the room and is getting ready to depart, when Tauriel stops her.

"Wait, can you— do you—" she stutters, trying to think of what to say. "Would you like to stay? I've grown tired of reading. What I'd really like is… a nice game of _Pica Pano_. Would you like to play?"

Tauriel is certain the maid knows she is grasping, desperate not to be left alone, but she doesn't call her on it.

"I don't know," Arodeth says, exaggeratingly slow. "I would hate for you to be out of a job when the King finds out your maid demolished you in a strategy game."

Letting out a breath she didn't know she was holding, Tauriel smiles thankfully.

"I guess we'll have to see about that. You're looking at the only person in the kingdom, aside from the King himself, who manages to defeat our Lord Legolas _every time _since she was about two hundred."

Tauriel jumps up and rummages through her desk, pulling out a small wooden plank drilled with holes, and a drawstring pouch containing black and white pegs.

She and Arodeth settle onto the bed and before she knows it they are lost in the game. The maid displays quite the talent for put-downs and smart remarks, and Tauriel finds herself replying in kind and actually laughing.

They pause only when Arodeth fetches them lunch, a tray of finger foods to nibble at while they play. Much to her surprise, Tauriel finds herself on the losing side three out of the four times they play, and her one win was by no more than a hair's breadth.

"Perhaps I _will_ be out of a job!" she exclaims.

"I wouldn't do that to you," Arodeth smiles. "Oh, would you look at the sky? We should get you ready, there isn't long before the ceremony."

All of her discomfort comes rushing back and her throat tightens. If Arodeth finds her sudden silence disconcerting after an afternoon of talk, she says nothing, instead focusing on helping Tauriel prepare.

She hums, that same lullaby, as she braids Tauriel's hair, offering more comfort than she understands.

Tauriel wears a long silver robe, the customary attire for an Elvish funeral, meant to echo the belief that those lost take their place among the stars; their _fëa_ shining for eternity on those they left behind.

Arodeth excuses herself briefly to change into her own silver dress, but returns to walk with Tauriel to the ceremony, though when they arrive to the largest courtyard they are parted.

Arodeth must stand with the rest of the general population, but Tauriel finds herself being escorted by a guard to the front of the ever-expanding crowd. Realization slams into her like a physical blow as she realizes the King expects her stand in front of everyone with the other Captains.

She tries to keep her breathing even and chin held high as she takes her place, briefly wondering if this is some kind of punishment. Being forced to stand in front of a crowd who likely knows she abandoned her post when she was most needed.

The room is shining brightly, illuminated by the moon and a series of cleverly placed mirrors to give the illusion of being outside. It makes Tauriel think of how it looks during the Feast of Starlight.

Tonight's crowd is much more somber, though. It's also parted in the middle, creating a wide berth around a cloth-covered monument in the center of the room she suspects is the memorial shrine.

Horns sound loudly and she follows the lead of her fellow Captains and turns to acknowledge the entrance of the King. She bows along with everyone else, while mentally cursing him.

Thranduil is decked in his finest, his cloak so radiant he almost appears to be giving off light. He takes his place standing before the Captains, not so much as sparing them a glance. She's not sure why this annoys her further.

"Tonight," he says, voice echoing loudly through the hushed hall, "we commemorate those who bravely fought, and fell. We honor their sacrifice. We celebrate their life. _We remember!_"

The King emphasizes his words, lifting his hands towards the sky. This must be the signal because there is the sound of whooshing fabric and the cloth covering the monument falls away, revealing a twenty-five foot tall black marble obelisk, engraved with the names of those lost.

The crowd murmurs, and Tauriel can see the approval on their faces.

"Please join me," Thranduil commands, drawing attention back to himself, "in venerating these heroes."

He claps his hands and waiters step out from the sides of the room, carrying trays laden with drinks and food. From the back corner music starts to play and the crowd begins to buzz with talk and mingling.

The King turns to face his captains.

"You are dismissed," he says, "please join the party and honor your fellow soldiers. It is what they would want."

He doesn't look directly at Tauriel and she feels oddly hurt. Despite what she felt earlier, not knowing how to handle the considerate and caring King, she forgot how hard it was to be completely ignored.

In fact, she thinks it is worse now, having been on the receiving end of his concern.

While the other guards bow their heads and then make their way into the crowd, Tauriel turns away and starts for the nearest exit.

She's makes it down the hall and has just rounded the corner when she feels a hand clamp down on her shoulder.

"Please, I can't—" she begins, thinking Thranduil has followed her to command her back.

"I bet you can't! Too much guilt?"

Instead of finding the King, Tauriel instead finds herself facing her second in command, Erwarth.

Erwarth towers over her, a good two feet taller than herself. His eyes, black as his hair, are filled with hatred and rage. His face, scarred along the right cheek, is contorted into a snarl.

He shoves her roughly, knocking her into the carved stone wall.

"Get away from me," she commands.

"You think you still have a right to order me around, dwarf-lover?"

Erwarth withdraws a dagger from his belt and swoops closer, leaving her nowhere to go.

"I am still your commanding officer," Tauriel insists, trying to keep her voice steady, and desperately wishing she weren't unarmed.

"You," he sneers, pressing his blade to her throat, "are _scum_."

"I would lower your dagger, unless you would enjoy being decapitated, that is."

Tauriel sighs in relief as Erwarth drops his weapon, her earlier annoyance with the King forgotten as she catches sight of him, sword drawn and aimed at her assailant's face.

"Guards!" the King calls, and two come rushing from around the corner. "Seize him."

"This isn't over," Erwarth spits, as he is taken into custody.

"Yes, it is. You are hereby banished from my kingdom, and if I ever lay eyes on you again your head will decorate my front door."

Tauriel looks to the King in shock; Erwarth is one of the most senior members of the guard. He's fought for this realm for the better part of his three thousand years.

The guards haul him away, leaving a stunned Tauriel alone with the King.

"Are you hurt?" Thranduil asks, sheathing his sword and reaching out to her.

"I'm fine, th—thank you."

"That won't happen again."

"Do you think he's the only on angry with me?" she asks, shaking her head. "You are a fool if you truly think this ends tonight."

Without waiting for a response, or a reprimand for calling her King a fool, Tauriel turns and runs, not stopping until she is safely behind her barred bedroom door.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>Again, I rarely write chapters this long, but there is just something about this pair that keeps me going. Thank you so much for your kind reviews, I read every single one of them and they truly keep me motivated! As always, please let me know what you think!

Translations:

_Pica Pano _- Spot Plan (I was kind of referring to that game where you move plastic pegs around a triangle shaped board, no idea what it's called, and P_ica Pano_ was the closest translation of 'Peg Strategy' I could find.

_Fëa _- Soul or spirit


	6. Visitors

Tauriel strips out of her mourning robe and changes into a nightgown, deciding to make an early night of it. She's positive the events of tonight will have some ramifications come morning, so she tries to get some rest, hoping her dreams will be peaceful.

Surprisingly her dreams are very peaceful, though, perhaps a bit odd.

_It begins in a spring meadow, wildflowers dancing in the breeze, and the afternoon sun hanging brightly overhead. Tauriel is stretched out on a blanket, and when she turns she finds Kili right beside her, smiling, happy, and alive. She returns his smile, leaning over to close the distance between them and plant a kiss on his lips; one that he returns._

'_If only,' she finds herself thinking, conscious mind seeping into her dream._

_The scene changes suddenly and Tauriel is no longer laying down, but standing, and instead of the sun kissed meadow, she finds herself in the royal garden beneath the stars._

_Breathing tickles her neck sending shivers down her spine, and a large, warm, hand comes to rest on her shoulder._

_Tauriel twists, searching for the face of her garden guardian—_

Knocking on her bedroom door wakes her from her dream and the images slip away, like hundreds of dandelion seeds carried off by a puff of wind.

She blinks her eyes rapidly, trying to hold onto the dream, while simultaneously trying to figure out what is happening in the waking world.

Her room is almost pitch black, despite the curtains being cracked, only lit up by a sliver of moonlight.

_It's the middle of the night!_

Tauriel grumbles and climbs out of bed, wondering if Arodeth has come to seek her out after a long evening of celebrating life. She pauses before unbarring the door, her thoughts drifting to Erwarth.

"Who is it?" she asks, hands resting on the wooden bar.

"It's me Captain," a voice calls, and she recognizes it as one of the guards who has spent shifts outside her room the last few weeks. "The King requests your presence."

Tauriel groans and lifts the bar.

"Of course he does," she grumbles, opening the door. "He couldn't just wait—"

Her words are cut off as she is thrown backwards by the guard shoving the door into her.

Closing the door behind him, the guard stalks towards her. Surprise and sleep muddle her thoughts and Tauriel tries to scramble backwards across the floor.

"Make this easy on yourself, traitor," he says. "Don't fight."

As he descends towards her, Tauriel kicks one of her legs out and connects with his knee.

"I've never been fond of the easy way," she growls as he falls to his knees.

Jumping to her feet, Tauriel tries to run past her assailant towards the door, but she isn't fast enough and he manages to catch her ankle. She goes sprawling once more, face first this time, with her head cracking on the stone floor.

"Ah!"

Stars swim before her eyes and the pounding pain in her head only grows worse when the guard fists his hand in her hair and drags her into a standing position.

The room is spinning and Tauriel is positive if it weren't for the chokehold she's being placed in she would be back on the floor.

He has her back pressed to his chest and one arm wrapped around her throat, tightening against her windpipe.

She tries scratching at his arm, but his free hand comes up and pins her left arm to her side.

Tauriel stomps down on his foot, but between the combination of head injury, lack of air, and her recent starvation, the act has no effect whatsoever. Her legs flail about, kicking and trying to unbalance the guard.

He grunts and takes a couple steps forward, pinning her legs against her desk, halting their movement.

Black pinpricks speckle her vision and Tauriel knows she is moments from passing out. Her right hand, still trying to pry his arm off, falls limply as she accepts defeat.

_Kili…_

Her hand grazes something metal, cold, and very familiar.

With the last of her strength, Tauriel grasps the hilt of one of her freshly sharpened daggers, and with one swift movement frees it from its sheath and buries the blade in her attacker's side.

He cries out in agony and lets go of his hold on her throat.

She gasps loudly, greedily sucking one breath, and then another and another, panting as he collapses to ground.

Head still spinning from lack of air and hitting the ground, Tauriel finds herself on the floor, crawling for the door.

As she's edging past the bleeding guard he makes one last grab for her. Anticipating this, she pulls the dagger from his side and buries it in his heart, leaving no room for error.

Energy spent, she collapses on the body, her mind spinning but unable to land on any one thing.

_Must… something… get… someone... _she urges herself.

Wincing, and fumbling, she pushes herself to her feet and creeps towards the door.

There is no one in the hall, and the tiny, still somewhat coherent part of her brain tells her not to call out for help. It could attract the wrong kind.

Using the wall for support, Tauriel pulls herself along. At only one point in her journey does she hear anyone approaching her location, and she ducks out of sight, though, when they pass it takes her a long time to get back on her feet.

She doesn't know how long it takes her to reach her destination, but she could cry from relief when she sees the big ornate door come into sight.

X

Having just returned from the memorial service, Thranduil thought he was done with business for the day. The knocking on his bedchamber door suggests otherwise.

Preparing to be faced with something ridiculous and trivial, he throws open the door, only to have his heart leap to his throat.

"My… King…" Tauriel sputters.

There is a terrible gash across her temple, and her nightgown is drenched in blood.

Before he can even attempt to process the scene before him, she collapses. He just manages to grab her before she hits the ground.

Thranduil drops to his knees, cradling Tauriel in his arms.

"Guards!" he cries. "Guards!"

A healer is summoned to the King's quarters as guards sweep the area, searching for an attacker. Thranduil places Tauriel in his own bed, not wanting to risk moving her too far and aggravating any injuries.

When the healer arrives Thranduil paces the edge of the room anxiously, not wanting to get in the way by hovering too close. While his own skills at healing are above that of the average elf, the king trusts no one more than Maereth, the royal healer. She once saved his life when he was past saving.

"_You are a fool if you truly think this ends tonight."_ Tauriel's words echo in his mind.

"This is not her blood," Maereth informs him.

"Then why is she unconscious?"

"I did not say she was not injured, only that this is not her blood on her nightgown. She has sustained a very severe concussion; her throat is bruised in a manner that suggests her windpipe was almost crushed, and she has many other, less serious, marks and injuries."

"Can you help her?" Thranduil asks.

Maereth nods her head, and places her hand on Tauriel's injured temple. She begins chanting, her voice low and lilting. Thranduil is both mesmerized, and transported.

_He is the one on the bed, writhing in agony, with four guards having to hold him down flat. His skin burns with the fire of a thousand suns. The first thing that breaks through his pain is her voice, calling him… calming him. _

_She speaks so softly, yet so sure. Her voice washes over him, her incantations bringing the faintest hints of relief. _

_Finally able to think of anything aside from the pain, Thranduil focuses on her face. Her kind blue eyes lock with his and he feels himself slip into a haze, where all that exists are those eyes and that voice. _

"I've healed her head, and done what I can for her throat. That is something that will need another session or two. She should not speak," Maereth says, calling him from his memory.

"Thank you," Thranduil says.

"She can be moved now. Would you like me to fetch someone?"

"Hmm?" he asks.

He had been staring at Tauriel; at some point during the healing process, while his mind wandered, Maereth had dressed Tauriel in one of his nightshirts.

"Would you like me to fetch someone to move her? I'm assuming you don't want to keep her here in your room?"

"Yes, of course not. No, don't trouble yourself," Thranduil tells her. "I'll see Tauriel safely returned to her quarters."

As Maereth departs, a guard enters.

"My King, we think we found the person responsible for Tauriel's injuries."

"I wish to see them."

"It was Langon. He's dead, my King. Found in Tauriel's chamber with her dagger through his heart."

"Langon?" Thranduil questions, incredulous. "He was one of the guards I assigned to her room. That does not make sense."

"Word has reached the council," the guard tells him, "they would like to call a session at once."

Thranduil waves the guard away.

"Tell them I am indisposed."

The guard bows and shows himself out, closing the door behind him, leaving he King and his Captain alone.

_Another dead elf… what happened?_

Thranduil approaches the side of his bed and perches on the edge, studying Tauriel's sleeping face. There is a thin line on her temple where previously there had been a gash, and he traces his finger across it, wondering if it will scar.

She turns her head nuzzling his hand and he pulls away, suddenly realizing how intimate their situation appears.

Tauriel asleep in his bed, in his clothing, while he caresses her face… _highly inappropriate._

_She could have died, and yet you sit here with your mind wandering like an elfling barely out of his four hundredth year._

He isn't sure how long he sits with her before she starts talking.

"No, no, no," Tauriel begins muttering, her voice cracking.

"Shh, it's alright," he reassures. "You're safe now."

Her eyes flutter open and she jerks straight up, looking around in panic.

Thranduil places his hands on her shoulders and forces her to look at him.

"Tauriel, you are safe."

"He… tried to—to," her voice hoarse, and he can tell she's in pain.

"Shh, don't speak, you aren't well enough yet."

Her eyes are pleading with him, desperate to explain.

"Take my hand," he instructs, and she furrows her brow at him. "Just do it. Take my hand and I'm going to ask you some yes or no questions. Squeeze for 'Yes', do nothing for 'No', understand? Try not to shift your neck, I don't want you to hurt yourself further."

Tauriel tentatively takes his hand.

"Did your guard attack you?"

Squeeze. _Yes._

"Was it unprovoked?"

_Yes._

"Were there others?"

Nothing. _No._

"He was alone?"

_Yes._

"Do you know why he attacked?"

_Yes._

"T—traitor," she croaks.

"Shh, I know he was."

Very cautiously Tauriel shakes her head, then raises her free hand and points to her own chest.

"Traitor… you? You're the— he called you a traitor," Thranduil says, working it out.

_Yes._

"I'm sorry," Thranduil offers, wondering where all of these apologies the last few days are coming from. "I assigned Langon to your room, this is on me. And I didn't believe we would have any problems after news of Erwarth's banishment got around."

Tauriel opens her mouth to speak, but Thranduil shakes his head 'no', cutting her off.

A knock on the door draws both of their attention, and Thranduil reluctantly bids the visitor to enter.

"Your Majesty."

Thranduil stands to greet his guest.

"Lord Haewon, what brings you here this evening."

Haewon is one of twelve members on the King's council, and though all members are seen as equal, Haewon has a lot of influence and often makes himself the voice of the council.

"The council just finished our meeting about tonight's events," Lord Haewon says.

"I hardly see how it is a matter of the council, the traitor has been dealt with," Thranduil insists, walking towards his guest.

While the King has ultimate power of the kingdom and its subjects, the council was created to ensure the citizens felt like they were being heard. The council brings the matters of the people to King's attention, allowing things to be handled before unrest can spread throughout the land.

"The council disagrees. The only thing we know for sure is that an elf, a member of the guard no less, was murdered tonight inside the palace walls… and _she _is to blame."

Lord Haewon points at Tauriel.

"We would see her brought to justice."

"It is my understanding," Thranduil says, voice dangerous, "that my Captain was attacked tonight, in her bedchamber, and only did what was necessary to survive."

"Be that as it may, the council is demanding a trial."

Thranduil turns on his heel and paces slowly towards the end of the bed, catching sight of Tauriel's wide-eyed worry.

He knows she did not kill anyone in cold blood tonight, and as King he could deny the council their trial and dismiss everything, but that comes with the risk of turning his back on his kingdom.

Something he cannot do.

He catches Tauriel's eye and tries to wordlessly reassure her he is on her side.

"Very well," he says, turning back to face the councilman. "A trial we shall have."

"Thank you, your Majesty," Lord Haewon beams, a cruel glint in his eye. "Guards, please escort Tauriel to her cell."

Thranduil bites his tongue as two guards swoop in on Tauriel, grabbing her by either arm and pulling her from his bed.

"Be careful," he finds himself saying, "she's not been proven guilty yet, and she is still injured. Have Maereth informed of her location so she may continue the healing process."

Tauriel keeps her mouth closed and jaw clenched, not saying a word as she's led away, though she shoots the King a look filled with accusation and he finds himself filled with dread over what's to come.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>Not as long as the last couple chapters, but this felt like a good stopping point and I really wanted to get something up! This ship is slowly consuming my life... Thank you so much for the feedback and reviews, I really love reading it! While I don't reply to _every _review, if you have a direct question (that won't result in spoilers) I will do my best to reply as soon as I can.


	7. Helping Hands

Tauriel holds her head high and stares haughtily ahead, giving the impression she is not worried and everything is beneath her. At least, that's what she is trying for. In actuality it's not as impressive when you're being half carried because you can't support yourself, and wearing a man's nightshirt that barely falls halfway to your knees.

She understands why the King allowed her to be taken away, how he can't just ignore his duties. Tauriel knows many already perceive her as a traitor, having abandoned her post just before battle. To allow her to walk without trial after the murder of an elf, right here in the palace, would cause an uproar.

Knowing that does not, however, ease her annoyance.

_He could have at least overseen this himself,_ she thinks, glancing in the direction of the leering Lord Haewon.

Tauriel has not had that much interaction with the councilman, only having mingled in large social gatherings, but she's not fond of the man. There is something about him that puts her teeth on edge.

His son, Arradon, is a member of the guard, though it is clear the boy would rather be doing literally anything else. He's a nice enough man, so different from his father.

"Oh, how the mighty have fallen," he comments as they approach the dungeons.

She doesn't say anything; partly because her throat is still too raw, and partly because the things she wants to say could end up leaving her with additional charges to face.

"It seems you might finally have done something that will lose you the King's favor. I mean, I thought that was a done deal when the Prince ran off because you broke his heart, but no. You prevailed. Soared even, getting invited to private meals with the King. I think that's all over now."

Tauriel glares at him, wondering where he gets his information. She doubts Legolas' reasons for departing are public knowledge.

They reach the dungeons and she's shoved unceremoniously into one, her chest tightening when she realizes it's the same cell Kili was kept in.

The bars slam shut, clanging loudly and causing her to jump despite having known it was coming. She stands in the middle of cell and looks out at the pompous councilman.

"Don't worry," he says, his voice slick as oil, "you won't be here long. I'm sure you'll be found guilty in no time, and then you'll be free of this place. And this earth."

He gives her one more wicked smirk and marches off, the guards trailing him, leaving Tauriel all alone in the gloomy cell.

She slinks over to the corner of the room and sits on the edge of the rough pallet bed.

Staring out the bars and seeing the place where she sat and discussed the wonders of the night sky with Kili, Tauriel thinks it will be too much. After the day she's had, this seems like the final straw. She waits, preparing herself for the jolting grief and tears, but none comes.

Instead she finds herself dry faced, and numb.

_Perhaps if I get out of this— when I get I get out of this, I should leave,_ she muses. _Why stay somewhere no one wants me? _

Tauriel draws her knees up to her chest and pulls her nightshirt down as far as it will go, trying to shield herself from the dungeon chill. She rests her head on her knees and inhales deeply, an instantly familiar aroma surrounding her.

The scent of wine and spices; sharp yet soothing.

Her shoulders relax and she finds herself taking another calming breath.

_He knows I'm innocent,_ she thinks, picturing the King's worried face. _He won't let anything happen to me here._

"_Shh, it's alright. You are safe now."_

She recalls his voice, comforting her.

"_Tauriel, you are safe."_

It's with those words she drifts off to sleep, still sitting upright, curled into herself. Her sleep is sound, no weird dreams or nightmares, though she does briefly wake in a haze, swearing she hears a woman shouting, but the sound fades and she slips back under.

X

Thranduil is picking over his breakfast in distaste, having no real appetite, when the door to his dining chamber bursts open loudly.

"I need to speak with you!"

It's Tauriel's maid, Arodeth, looking furious. A sheepish looking young guard is trailing her.

"S-sorry, my King. She's quite fast," the guard apologizes, taking hold of the maid's arm.

Thranduil sighs tiredly and waves his hand.

"Oh, just leave her," he says.

The guard is hesitant, but does as he's told, backing out of the room slowly and closing the door behind him.

Setting his fork down, Thranduil cocks his head to the side and waits.

"Imagine my surprise," Arodeth begins, pacing angrily back and forth, "when I go to deliver breakfast to Tauriel, I discover her room is blocked off. When I inquire as to what is going on, I am then informed that Tauriel has been arrested for murder and is locked away in the dungeons."

He opens his mouth to speak, but she holds up a hand silencing him.

_Who does she think she is speaking to?_

"So then, I head down to the dungeon to check on her and find out what in the heavens happened, only to have some bumbling buffoon of a guard tell me traitors are not permitted visitors. Despite giving him a piece of my mind, no one will tell me what is going on! I hear there is to be a trial?"

"If you could find the ability to hold your tongue, challenging for you as that may be, I may be able to enlighten you," he tells her.

Arodeth stops pacing and folds her arms in a huff, but doesn't say anything else.

"I don't have all the details yet, but last night Tauriel was attacked in her room. She killed the intruder in self defense, if her injuries are anything to go by, and then showed up at my door drenched in blood." He pauses, swallowing uncomfortably, haunted by the image of her arrival the night before. "The problem is her attacker was a respected member of the guard. It was Langon, one of the men I assigned to watch her room. The council is demanding a trial, and it wasn't something I could deny."

"Well you are king aren't you?"

"The way people have been addressing me lately, I'm really beginning to wonder," he says, giving her a dangerous look.

Looking away, blushing, Arodeth bows her head.

"I'm sorry for the way I burst in here," she apologizes. "I'm very worried for Tauriel. She was just starting to recover, and I worry this will be a setback. Please, will you allow me to see her?"

Thranduil hesitates only a moment before nodding.

"I'll instruct the guards to allow you access. Please check that Maereth has been to see her, there is still some damage to her throat that needs to be tended. Also, you should take her a change of clothes. I'm sure she'd be more comfortable."

"Thank you."

The maid bows slightly and turns to leave.

"Arodeth? Tell her— tell her not to worry. I will handle this."

Arodeth smiles sadly and excuses herself, leaving Thranduil with his troubled thoughts on just how he can help Tauriel.

X

When she wakes Tauriel finds her whole body aching. She winces as she stretches her legs, and tries to assess the damage.

Her head is pounding, throat is tight, and she generally feels as if she's been trampled by a horse.

The cell is damp and cold, and Tauriel wonders how long she's going to be kept down here.

_Will they move the trial along quickly, or am I going to be stuck waiting?_

"I have permission from the King!"

Tauriel hears a commotion from down the hall. She stands up, joints popping, and crosses to the prison bars, trying to see what is going on.

"That's what I thought, now run along."

"Arodeth?" Tauriel croaks.

The maid comes bustling towards her, with another woman following.

"She should not yet speak," the other woman says.

"Tauriel, this is Maereth, the royal healer," Arodeth introduces, fumbling with the cell key to open the door. "She healed you last night."

Tauriel steps back to allow the women entrance to the cell. She opens her mouth to thank the healer, but the woman silences her.

"Let me try to heal your throat again. There was too much damage to fix it all last night."

Nodding, Tauriel perches on the edge of the bed and the healer joins her. Maereth places cool hands around her neck and Tauriel tries to remain perfectly still.

When the chanting begins, Tauriel slips away. She's no longer in the dark dungeon, but outside in the garden, a gentle breeze playing across her skin.

The vision stops abruptly and she is back in the dank cell, the healer watching her serenely.

"Speak," the woman says.

"Thank you, for your help," Tauriel tries.

The words come out without pain, but her voice still sounds raw and husky.

"Much better," Maereth beams. "I'm afraid that may be the best I can do. The rest will heal with time."

"You're a miracle worker!" Arodeth gushes, patting Maereth's shoulder.

"There are some wounds I have no power over," she says, studying Tauriel. "The real miracle workers are those who can begin to heal wounds long ago hidden."

Tauriel wants to ask what that means, but Maereth stands up abruptly and offers them a small bow.

"If you need anything else, please let me know."

And then she is gone, leaving the maid and the captain alone.

Arodeth practically tackles Tauriel, pulling her into a fierce hug.

"Are you alright?" she begs. "I was so worried! They wouldn't let me come see you, I had to go to the King."

"I thought I heard someone yelling this morning," Tauriel smirks. "I'm okay, well I am now."

She gently massages her throat, again thinking of the healer's cryptic words.

"Did you say you've been to see the King?" Tauriel asks.

"Yes, I had to get in here somehow. No wonder he said to bring you a change of clothes, what are you wearing?"

"Oh, it's King Thranduil's," she says offhand. "Did he say anything else?"

Arodeth's eyes widen but she doesn't say anything, instead passing Tauriel a clean outfit.

"Thank you."

Tauriel pulls off the nightshirt and tosses it on the bed, dressing as quickly as she can to shield herself from the cold air. In her own clothes, dressed head to toe, she feels so much better… stronger.

"He did say something," Arodeth says, "the King. He told me to tell you not to worry. He will handle this."

Surprisingly, almost all of Tauriel's worry _does _vanish.

"_Tauriel, you are safe."_

"Can you tell me what happened?" Arodeth asks. "You don't have to, if you don't want to. I understand if you'd rather not discuss it."

"No, no it's fine. I should probably get used to telling my story with the impending trial."

Taking a deep breath, Tauriel begins recounting her evening to Arodeth; beginning from the point they split up at the party. She tells her all about Erwarth and his banishment, and then about being woken up for false summons.

She recounts the attack, her stomach twisting, not out of fear, but out of shame.

_Had I been in peak health none of this would be happening. I could have subdued him in no time._

Tauriel vows to herself that when this is all over she is going to throw herself into training and gain back the skills she's let slip.

She ends her story with how gleeful Lord Haewon seemed to be by her detainment.

"I've never liked that man," Arodeth scowls. "He thinks he's royalty, when he's really just a horse's ass."

"How is it you always know what to say to cheer me up?"

"Just a gift, I suppose. Is there anything I can bring you?"

Sighing, Tauriel shakes her head.

"No, I doubt they'd let you smuggle a proper mattress down here," she says, glancing at the forlorn pallet bed.

"Probably not. I can take care of that for you though."

Arodeth is pointing to the King's balled up nightshirt on the bed. Tauriel opens her mouth and closes it, not sure what to say, but not wanting the shirt taken away.

"Oh, just— just leave it. I don't have a pillow."

A loud clanging on the cell bars startles both of them.

"Maid, your time is up," a guard calls.

"You won't be here long, you'll see," Arodeth assures her. "I have to go now, but I'll be back first thing to check on you."

"Thank you."

Tauriel watches her leave, wondering how she could have gotten so lucky with the random assignment of her maid. Before the battle she'd never allowed herself to be given a maid, feeling the overwhelming need to be as self-sufficient as possible. Now she wonders how much she's missed out on had Arodeth always been with her.

The day passes agonizingly slow.

No one else comes to visit her, aside from the guard that delivers her food. Her meals are subpar compared to her usual fare, but Tauriel forces herself to eat it.

Then, despite her aching body, she tries exercising. Push-ups and sit-ups almost bring her to tears, but she pushes herself anyway. When she reaches her limit she settles onto the floor and cools down with some basic stretches.

Despite all this, she still has far too much free time on her hands, and wishes she would have asked Arodeth to bring her a book or something.

Tauriel retreats to the furthest corner of her bed, pressing her back to the wall. She picks up the King's nightshirt and worries the soft material between her fingers.

The dungeon grows darker and she knows it is getting late; the guards are extinguishing most of the torches outside in the hall.

She pulls her knees to her chest once more and bows her head, bringing the borrowed shirt up to her nose to inhale it's comforting scent.

She isn't sure how much time passes before she thinks she hears footsteps outside of her cell.

Popping her head up she sees the outline of someone just beyond her bars.

"Tauriel."

"My King!"

Blushing a bit, she tucks the shirt she'd just been smelling behind her and rushes over to the door.

"I just came to inform you that your trial is being rushed. The council seems rather eager to put this behind them," he says. "It begins tomorrow."

"Oh… so soon?" she questions, biting her lip.

"You have nothing to fear. All the evidence supports that you were attacked."

"And yet I'm down here in the first place. There is something more going on… something feels off."

"You think this is more than an isolated incident?" he asks.

Tauriel leans closer to the gate, wrapping her fingers around the bars.

"I think we can't ignore the possibility. I was attacked twice on the same night, by two different people, and now despite clearly being the victim, the council is after me."

Thranduil glances around him, and moves in so she can hear him.

"Let's just get you through this first, and when you're free we'll work on the rest. Together."

Unable to hold her tongue, Tauriel asks something that has been bothering her.

"Why do you care so much? About what happens to me."

He's quiet for so long she doesn't think he'll answer. She's about to pull away and return to her bed, but his hand reaches out for hers where it rests on the prison bars.

"I've lost too many of my people already, Tauriel. I won't lose another. Especially one I— one I saved so many years ago."

His hand drops and she tries to ignore the sense of loss.

"I feel responsible for you," he finishes.

She doesn't know how to respond, so Tauriel remains silent.

"Here," he says, reaching a hand through the bars. "Take this. It's mine, but I'd feel better if you had it right now."

She takes his offering and holds it up to inspect it. The torchlight from outside the cell reflects off the blade of a small, intricately decorated, dagger. The hilt is black obsidian and there is a sapphire adorning the pommel.

"It's more of a ceremonial tool, but if you are attacked again it should do the job. Just keep it tucked away. They won't search you."

"Thank you," she whispers, still studying the delicate blade.

Thranduil looks both ways down the hall.

"I should go. I slipped down here as the guards were changing shifts. I don't want anyone to see me."

"Probably not a good idea for the King to be seen paying late night visits to traitors," she says, half joking.

"After tomorrow no one will think you a traitor," he insists.

Before she can ask him to elaborate he's gone, and Tauriel is left alone in the darkness, clinging to her borrowed blade.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong> Conspiracy, traitors, and betrayal, oh my! Please let me know what you think! I'm trying to keep the characters as close to "in character" as possible, though I feel I'm probably straying a bit. Hope it's not too much that it ruins the story for you!

Reviews are always read, and always appreciated! Thank you!


	8. Trial and Testimony

Try as she might, Tauriel is too nervous to sleep. Paranoia seeps into her mind like a poison and she runs through all of the possibilities of what tomorrow may bring.

Musing over whether or not someone is really out to get her, she wishes she would have asked the names of those lost, wondering if any were related to council members. Tauriel can't imagine any other reason someone would be mad at her.

Sure, many elves still hold prejudice towards the dwarves, as the relations between their two races have been anything but smooth in the past, but she doubts her budding relationship with Kili would drive anyone to want her dead.

The only thing that makes sense is an angry relative blaming the loss of a loved one on Tauriel for abandoning her post. If she's honest with herself, Tauriel can't really make herself blame them.

_I was wrong for running away when I was needed most._

She curls into a ball on her pallet bed, clinging to her makeshift nightshirt pillow, and the handle of dagger the King gave her, completely unaware that she's not the only one awake and worrying about her fate.

X

Alone in his chambers, Thranduil paces back and forth, wondering if he made the right choice bringing Tauriel back.

He did it because he worried that on her own she would not last, that she would allow her heartbreak to break her. Yet, here she is in his care facing the third threat against her life in a span of two days.

_She would not have lasted on her own,_ he assures himself, thinking of her self-starvation. _You did the right thing._

Despite his reassurances, he can't help but feel responsible for putting her in danger, and spends most of the night stressing over how to fix it.

He doesn't know how he'd live with himself if something happened to her because of him. His chest aches at the very thought, though he refuses to think about why the idea causes him so much discomfort. Thranduil writes it off as something he would surely feel for any of his soldiers, were they in a similar position.

In the morning when he is summoned for the start of the trial, it is no surprise to him that he got no rest at all, and he wonders if Tauriel fared any better.

Most trials are open to the public, and this is where they hit the first snag. Thranduil is led to the council chambers, instead of the public court hall.

"What exactly am I doing here?" asks Thranduil, looking around haughtily at the council members.

There are eight in total, four women, and four men. Most of them look unsure as to the current location as well, and it is Lord Haewon that steps forward.

"Your majesty, we are charging Tauriel with being a traitor. Traitors are not permitted public trials in case state secrets are revealed."

Thranduil glares at the man.

"I was under the impression Tauriel was being charged with _murder_, not treachery."

"Well, yes. That too," Haewon amends, "but she did abandon her post during the battle."

"What concern is that of yours?" Thranduil demands.

"It is all of our concern when those tasked to lead find themselves unable to, or _unwilling._"

"Even if that were the issue on trial today, that would make her a deserter, not a traitor. I see no reason to forgo a public trial, and I move that we relocate to the court hall at once."

Lord Haewon is clearly not pleased with this idea, but the murmurs from the other council members keep him silent.

"I second that," one of the councilwomen, Lady Neleth, chimes.

Most of the rest of the council voices their agreement, and before long, much to Lord Haewon's displeasure, the group relocates to the court hall.

The time of the trial is pushed back to allow for word to spread among the people so there may be an audience, and it isn't until three hours later that Tauriel is brought in.

Thranduil can't help but watch her closely as she's escorted in, feeling livid when he sees the shackles on her wrists. He can tell immediately that she got no rest after his visit last night. She's not as good at concealing weakness as he.

Her eyes are bloodshot, and the bags under them leave her looking bruised, though, to be fair, they may _actually _be bruised.

Tauriel is trying to keep her head up and eyes straight, but he can see her nervously surveying the room, and he can't blame her.

There is an unprecedented crowd present today, especially considering the short notice.

Glancing at the council, Thranduil sees Lord Haewon looks particularly annoyed by this.

_It's much easier to sway one council than it is to sway the entire kingdom_.

He suspects that's why Haewon pushed for a private trial.

X

Tauriel feels like an animal being led into a trap as she is walked to the front of the vast courtroom.

There are people lining the hall on either side of her, watching and whispering, barely managing to keep contempt from their voices. She catches sight of too many angry faces and can't bring herself to scan the crowd any more.

Instead she looks up at the council.

At the front of the room is a long, elevated, wooden table, where the council members sit to question and judge her. Her eyes lock on King Thranduil seated near the middle, next to Lord Haewon.

His eyes are already on her when she looks up, and she feels a blush come to her cheeks, though she isn't sure why.

The guards lead her to a wooden platform, about fifteen feet from the council bench, then leave her there.

"Tauriel, Captain of the Guard," Lord Haewon begins, voice echoing through the hall commanding silence, "you have been charged with the murder. Of a fellow soldier, no less… How would you like to plead?"

Her throat is tight and dry, but she does manage to speak.

"Guilty."

Whispers spread throughout the watching crowd, sounding like a pit of hissing vipers.

"Order, order!" Lord Haewon commands, and the crowd falls silent. "You wish to admit to the murder of your guard, Langon?"

"Yes," Tauriel says, nodding, feeling stronger. "I admit that he died by my hand, but it was in self-defense."

More murmuring breaks out around her, quieter this time.

"Why don't you tell us, in your own words, what happened that night?" One of the councilwomen asks, her tone much gentler than Lord Haewon's.

Tauriel nods, and begins her story, starting from Erwarth attacking her when leaving the memorial service. She explains how Langon pretended the King summoned her to get her to open her door, and then how he charged her. Tauriel tries to clearly portray her attempt to simply escape, and then how she had no other option but to take lethal action.

When she finishes most of the council is looking at her in understanding. Lord Haewon isn't looking at her at all; he has his face down and appears to be scribbling notes.

"Captain," he drawls, finally glancing up, "Are you often summoned to the King's chambers in the middle of the night?"

"What? No, of course not," she says, confused.

Glancing at the King she finds him twisted in his chair, glaring at the councilman.

"Right, so why would you believe suddenly that you really were being summoned?" Lord Haewon continues. "That seems fairly unlikely."

"I—I already told you, I was attacked earlier in the night, and King Thranduil intervened. I assumed it was a follow-up on that."

"And what did you do after this alleged attack took place?"

"I went to the King," she replies, jutting her chin forward.

"Right. To his personal chambers?"

"I—yes."

"Did you at any time during, or after, the alleged attack call for help?" Lord Haewon asks.

"Well, no, but it happened so fast."

"Why did you not call for help afterwards?"

"I was scared it would draw attention. The _wrong _kind of attention," she clarifies. "As I said, that was the second time I was attacked that evening, and by a completely different person. I didn't know who I could trust."

"You seem awfully paranoid," the councilman smirks. "Why is it that you seem to think people are out to get you?"

Tauriel bows her head for the first time, staring at her shackles.

"They see me as a traitor," she answers quietly.

"A little louder, if you don't mind."

"They see me as a traitor," she repeats, her voice echoing around the silent hall.

"Why is that?" Lord Haewon asks, voice dripping sweetly as if he is relishing this moment.

"Before the battle for Erebor, I abandoned my post."

"And why was that?"

She opens her mouth to reply, but closes it again as she thinks about why she left her post.

_Was it really just one thing?_

Tauriel wanted to help Kili, she wanted to make sure he would be all right, but that wasn't all. She also left because she was sick of standing idly by while people suffered when she could be of service. She was tired of the King's no intervention policy keeping the kingdom so sealed off and self-contained. Tauriel wanted to be free of those shackles and help whomever she wished.

"Why did you leave your post?" Lord Haewon repeats.

"I really couldn't tell you," she finally responds, looking up to see his smug expression.

The councilman is getting ready to say something else, when King Thranduil cuts over him.

"I move to open the floor for those wishing to speak on the accused's behalf," he says.

Someone seconds and then thirds the movement, and the next thing she knows Tauriel is standing off to the side of the platform.

The royal healer, Maereth, is in her place now, speaking to the council.

Maereth details Tauriel's injuries, testifying that they were indeed consistent with self-defense.

"For corroboration purposes, where did you treat the Captain?" Lord Haewon asks.

"I was summoned to the King's quarters. I healed her head and partially healed her throat there, then the next day I visited her in her in the dungeons to try another attempt at healing her throat," Maereth explains.

"And what state was she in when you first found her?"

"I told you she was covered—"

"I mean, was she awake? Unconscious? On the floor?"

"She was unconscious, and she was propped up on the bed."

Tauriel frowns, wondering how any of this could hold any relevance.

"Thank you for your time, Healer Maereth," one of the councilwomen interjects. "Is there anyone else who wishes to offer testimony?"

"I would."

King Thranduil stands up from his place among the council and walks around the bench, towards the witness platform. The crowd buzzes loudly, most forgetting to at least _try _to whisper.

This is unprecedented.

Swallowing back the lump in her throat, Tauriel watches the King take the platform. He doesn't look her way, instead choosing to stare down the council members.

"Before I ask you any questions, is there anything you would like to say?" Lord Haewon asks.

"I would like to go on record confirming Healer Maereth's findings, and confirming the Captain's statement about seeking me out after her attack," Thranduil says, voice steady and calm, "and before you ask, yes, I did say attack. I was not witness to that, but I can testify that when she appeared at my door, there was no question in my mind that she had been in a struggle for her life."

Tauriel has to bite the inside of her lip to keep from smiling. If the King is standing in front of the council and the kingdom backing her up, surely she can't be found guilty.

"You were also witness to the attack on Captain Tauriel earlier in the evening, were you not?"

"I was."

Lord Haewon's expression shifts, his eyes turn both calculating and triumphant, setting warning bells off in Tauriel's mind.

"Do you know why Erwarth, senior member of our military, decided to suddenly attack his superior officer?" the councilman asks.

"He called her a traitor."

"Yes, as we have already heard from the Captain herself, after which she stated she was viewed as a traitor because she abandoned her post before the battle. Were you aware of this?"

Tauriel's stomach flips.

_Haewon knew he wouldn't get me on the murder charge, so he's going to force the King's hand, in front of the whole kingdom, to charge me with desertion. _

There is no way out of the question, she knows. The King can either admit he knew and chose to ignore her actions, which will greatly call his judgment into question, or he can deny any knowledge of her misdeed.

_Deny,_ she thinks. _I understand. I'm going down no matter what… don't throw yourself with me._

"Yes," Thranduil answers, "I was."

_No, no, no…_

"And yet no charges were filed against her?" Lord Haewon presses, barely able to keep the glee from his voice. "Is this considered normal, suitable behavior among our military leaders? Having no consequences for their wrongs? Can one really blame the men that attacked Captain Tauriel? Perhaps they just assumed they too could do what they wished since the precedent had been set."

"Despite this being a council trial, I would like to remind you to whom you are speaking," Thranduil says icily.

That seems to wipe the smirk from Haewon's face, and a few of the other council members glance around nervously.

"I was aware that Captain Tauriel left her post before the battle," Thranduil continues, louder, "as I was the one who instructed her to do so."

It takes all of Tauriel's self control to keep her face clear of confusion at the King's words. She studies his profile, but he still refuses to look at her.

Up at the council table Lord Haewon looks livid.

"Excuse me?"

"Captain Tauriel was under special instructions from myself. She did not _abandon _her post. She was following orders."

"And what orders were those?" Lord Haewon practically spits.

"That," Thranduil drawls, "is restricted information, reserved only for select members of our guard. Military movements, as you will recall, are handled solely at my discretion."

She can't believe what she's hearing.

"Thank you, your Majesty," one of the other council members chimes up. "I think we have all of the information we need to reach a decision."

Thranduil bows his head and steps down from the platform as the council members lean in to deliberate.

He walks over and stands beside Tauriel, surveying the hall, still not looking at her.

The crowd is the loudest they've been all day, everyone leaning over to discuss the new revelations with their neighbors.

She can't believe what the King has given her.

Not only has he almost undoubtedly assured her innocent verdict, and prevented her from being charged as a deserter, but he made his statement… _his lie…_ public. It will spread like wildfire and by the end of the day, no one will think of her as a traitor anymore.

"I don't know—" she starts, glancing over at him, to thank him, but he silences her.

"Not here," he whispers out of the corner of his mouth. "Meet me in the garden tonight."

Before she can agree, he wanders away, pacing as the council comes to their decision.

"Captain Tauriel," Lord Haewon calls, shushing the hall.

Tauriel takes her place back on the wooden platform, and faces the council.

"Due to the overwhelming amount of evidence and testimony," he says, unable to fully hide his sneer, "the council has no choice but to declare you innocent by way of self-defense. You are free to go. Guards, you may remove her restraints."

Her chest swells in relief as the manacles are removed from her wrists. She didn't fully realize how scared she was until the verdict had been announced.

Much to her surprise, as she is being led back out of the court hall, the crowd is cheering her on, and calling their support. The King's testimony seems to have made all the difference.

Tauriel can't wait to thank him.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>As always, reviews are greatly appreciated! I'd love to know what you think!


	9. A Bargain is Struck

Outside of the court hall, Arodeth is waiting for Tauriel, bobbing up and down trying to see past the crowd of onlookers.

"I'm so sorry for everything you've been through," someone tells Tauriel with a bow.

"If you need anything don't hesitate to ask," says another she vaguely recognizes.

"Uh, thank you. I appreciate your support," Tauriel mumbles, looking for an escape.

Like a ram, Arodeth comes pushing through the crowd, entwining her arm with Tauriel's.

"Thank you everyone, but the Captain really needs her rest," the maid says with as much authority as she can manage.

Slowly, the crowd begins to thin and disperse enough for Arodeth to lead Tauriel through it and away.

"That was extremely uncomfortable," Tauriel complains.

"You're a celebrity! Well, even moreso than before," Arodeth tells her. "You already were for being the youngest captain ever, but _now_… youngest captain ever, assigned secret special missions from the king, taking on the council, _and _there seemed to be a conspiracy plot against your life. Quite thrilling to gossip about."

"Not quite as thrilling to live."

"Oh, now, everything is fine. That's behind you now, and you can focus on the future."

"Whatever that means," Tauriel sighs.

Despite it seeming like the worst is behind her, Tauriel has a sinking feeling that there is more yet to come.

She wants to begin training immediately to build her strength back up, but after not getting any rest last night she knows she should wait. So, instead of heading to the training pitch, she allows Arodeth to lead her to her bedchambers.

Pausing in the doorway, Tauriel finds everything in her room is exactly as it was before her attack with no signs of what happened.

"Is everything alright?" Arodeth asks, peeking over her shoulder. "I didn't miss anything did I?"

"No, no, it looks fine, thank you."

Tauriel enters the room and approaches her desk. Both daggers are back in place, and she traces her finger over the hilt of one, thinking how close she came to losing her life the other night.

Though she had briefly thought death might be favorable to her grief, she now knows that she truly wants to live.

_As long as I live I can still help people._

"Are you hungry?"

"I'm famished, actually," Tauriel replies, turning to face her maid, "but I'm rather tired. I think I'm going to rest a bit, and then I'll just take a large supper."

"Of course."

Arodeth bows her head and begins backing towards the door, but pauses suddenly.

"You know," she says, "it seemed like Lord Haewon was trying very hard to paint to in a negative light."

"I noticed," Tauriel agrees with a humorless laugh.

"It's just… he seemed to have a lot of information on you, I'm wondering why he didn't bring up that bit about you drawing your bow on the King."

"Well—" Tauriel pauses, "that is a good question."

"Probably nothing," Arodeth sighs. "I'll be back later with your supper."

Her 'thank you' comes out a little too late, as Tauriel ponders the maid's observation.

Shaking her head, Tauriel throws herself onto her bed, luxuriating in the softness. The feather mattress is heaven after her wooden pallet, but she feels a strange pang when she thinks about her impromptu nightshirt pillow, still balled up in her cell.

Pushing all thoughts away, Tauriel rolls onto her stomach and lets her weariness carry her off. Underneath her pillow her hand is tucked away, clenching the small dagger the King gave to her, ready in case of another intruder.

X

_A King's word is his honor… and yet I have lied to my entire kingdom._

Thranduil does not regret saving Tauriel from prosecution, but he can't help wondering what kind of a king it makes him, holding no shame for his actions.

He's also beginning to think he hasn't paid enough attention to his government in the wake of the battle. Thranduil will admit he's been a bit preoccupied lately, first with the monument, then with Tauriel's declining health, and always wondering where Legolas is and if he is all right. It seems while he has been distracted, Lord Haewon has grown bolder.

That unpleasant little man has always been a bit of an overreacher, grasping for power that is not his to take, but if today were any indication it seems Haewon has been pushing even more lately.

Thranduil did not miss the pointed questions about Tauriel and his bedchamber.

_The nerve of that man! There is nothing like… and even if there was… what business is it of…?_

He can't even think clearly on the matter. It is quite improper.

Currently, Thranduil is trying to focus on the maps spread across his desk. He is considering sending new patrols out past the kingdom borders, perhaps even aiding those surrounding them.

The recent losses have made him reconsider his stance on being so self-contained. If they had helped end the problem, before it really grew out of hand, there might have been fewer casualties for everyone.

_Knock. Knock._

"Enter," Thranduil commands.

"My King."

Glancing up Thranduil sees it is his most senior Captain of the Guard, Dagon. He's bowing, his brown hair hanging in a curtain, hiding his face.

"I'm not quite finished sorting the new patrols, Captain. I will have them to you and your men shortly.

"Of course, your Majesty, thank you. However, that is not why I came."

"Oh?" Thranduil asks, studying the man in front of him. "What is it that brings you here then? Is there a problem?"

"I don't know, is there?" Dagon asks, sounding cross.

"Beg pardon?"

"There is rumor all over the kingdom that during the Battle of Erebor you sent Tauriel on some sort of secret mission."

"That is correct," Thranduil lies. "What of it?"

"Well, your majesty, it's just that I have served you for many centuries. I have protected this kingdom and everyone in it. I have helped plan countless assaults and defenses, and I can't understand why now you would choose to leave me out of the loop on this."

"Captain—"

"I know this is out of line," Dagon continues, staring at the ground, "as it is ultimately up to you with whom you share classified information, but this is something I needed to know. I figure I lost two good men over this, maybe Erwarth and Langon were a bit hot headed, but they are both gone now because I was not informed of what was really going on. Had I been, perhaps this could have been avoided."

Having hoped he could put this lie behind him and never think about it again, Thranduil finds himself very uncomfortable. Dagon is a good soldier, and a good man, and Thranduil knows he takes the actions of his men personal.

"No, you are right," Thranduil finally replies with a sigh. "You should have been informed, if not beforehand, since it happened rather quickly, than after the fact so it could be understood why Captain Tauriel seemed to be going without punishment. I am sorry. I won't allow such an oversight to happen again."

"Thank you, your majesty. That is all I ask."

"I'll have the new patrol routes ready for your men by morning."

With that Dagon takes the cue and bows before dismissing himself, leaving Thranduil with his troubled thoughts.

At dusk, Thranduil rolls up all of the map parchments and summons Nimmon to have them delivered.

Once that is settled he slips out of his office and heads for the garden, not sure how early Tauriel will show up.

It's empty when he arrives, and he paces back and forth by the pond's edge, watching one by one as the evening stars appear reflecting in the water.

The peace he usually finds among his flowers does not find him tonight, and he once more finds himself plagued by reminiscence.

"I used to come up here all the time with Legolas when he was a child," Thranduil says, hearing soft footsteps approaching. "He had terrible nightmares after— after he lost his mother. We both did."

He still remembers those early days with perfect crystalline clarity, when the pain was so prominent. When he could still taste ashes in his mouth and smell sulfur with every breath.

"Legolas would creep into my room late at night, always to find me already awake. We would come up here, spread out a thick blanket, and lie back to watch the stars. Minutes felt like hours, waiting for the dawn light to wash over us and clear the fog of our nightmares. To pass the time we would rename the stars after heroes we made up, each earning their place in sky with foolish and ridiculous exploits, until our sides hurt from laughter."

He smiles sadly, still staring into the pond.

"I find it difficult to imagine you taking part in something so frivolous," Tauriel says, from behind him.

"Some people bring out the unexpected in us," Thranduil replies, finally turning to face her.

She's standing just a couple feet away, hands clasped behind her back, and staring at him with a look that breaks his battered heart.

It isn't pity she wears, which he would loathe, but a look of true empathy that reflects his own losses back at him. Tauriel knows what he's been through, because she has been there herself.

In that moment an understanding falls over them, hanging so heavily in the air it is almost tangible.

"I—I don't think I can ever thank you," she says, after a long pause, "for what you did today."

Tauriel reaches out as if to touch him, but freezes, letting her hand fall back to her side.

Thranduil doesn't know how to reply, so he just nods stiffly and tries to change the topic.

"I don't think this is truly over," he says. "I think you were right about this being more than just two random attacks. While I have no proof, my intuition is telling me there is something going on, and I suspect Lord Haewon to be involved."

"What should we do?"

"Remain watchful."

"So do nothing?" she asks, her eyes narrowing.

"As I said, we have no proof. Even as King I cannot go throwing council members in the dungeons for merely annoying me. Oh, how peaceful life would be," Thranduil says wistfully, eliciting a small smile from Tauriel.

Thranduil turns away to sit beside the pond, and she follows sitting beside him with only a slight hesitation.

"I'm going to begin training again tomorrow," she tells him, after a long stretch of silence.

"Are you sure you're ready? You haven't allowed yourself much time to regain your strength."

"I won't regain my strength until I push myself. The other night I thought I was going to die. I felt powerless… weak. I never wish to feel that way again."

"We'll be lucky to have you back. The new patrols will need your experience," Thranduil insists.

"What new patrols?"

"The ones I initiated today, that stretch out past our borders. A wise Captain once spoke to me of seeking out evil at its source. I've just recently come to appreciate the wisdom of her words."

Looking over, Thranduil finds Tauriel beaming broadly at him.

"Really?"

He nods.

Tauriel throws her arms around him unexpectedly, and places a kiss on his cheek. Energy crackles between them where her lips brush his skin, and from the way she pulls back Thranduil knows she felt it too.

"I—uh… I should get to bed," she stumbles, cheeks blossoming red. "T-training in the morning. I need the rest."

"Yes, of course," he replies, unable to meet her eyes.

Thranduil doesn't look up again until he hears the garden gate close, and his hand comes up to trace his fingers over where she kissed him.

X

Tauriel gets up the next morning before dawn, wishing to get to the training pitch before anyone else. That way she can evaluate her skills without being a public spectacle.

She is nervous to see how much she has let herself slip, but as soon as she puts on her light leather armor a calm settles over her.

The top is a bit loose, so Tauriel just cinches it tighter, refusing to let it get to her. Today is about starting her journey back to health.

_Kili would be proud_, she thinks, feeling both sadness and determination.

After leaving a note for Arodeth, telling her not to worry, Tauriel heads outside. She is pleased to find that she is indeed the first person there.

She stretches thoroughly, working to loosen tight muscles. Then she heads straight for the obstacle training course.

It is a winding path, littered with traps, hurdles, and practice targets. The goal is to make it through in as little time as possible.

Taking a deep breath Tauriel crouches at the starting line, her bow in her hand and quiver on her back.

Launching forward she begins counting in her head as she skips over the first trap; a trip wire.

_Six. Seven. Eight._

There's a broken tree blocking her path and she jumps over it, though her landing is less than graceful and she almost rolls her ankle. She keeps pushing forward.

_Twenty-two. Twenty-three. Twenty-four._

She snags a trip wire, sending a rock falling from the tree in front of her, swinging from a rope. Tauriel drops to the ground with a loud grunt and manages to miss being hit, but it costs her time.

_Forty-five. Forty-six. Forty-seven._

A target springs from a bush on her left and she quickly draws an arrow. Her arm muscles quiver in protest as she draws back her bowstring, but she manages to fire and is only slightly off her mark.

_Fifty-eight. Fifty-nine. Sixty._

Tauriel continues on, urging herself forward. Even after her foot catches a root and sends her into a bramble bush, she doesn't quit, just swears to set the bush on fire later and pulls herself up.

When she finishes the course she is muddy, covered in scratches, and out of breath. She's also about two minutes slower than her best time.

Growling in frustration she throws her bow to the ground.

"It's going to require time and patience to get back to yourself," someone says.

Tauriel spins around, feeling embarrassed by her outburst.

Sitting off to the edge of the pitch is Arradon, Lord Haewon's son. He's stretched out across the grass, papers spread before him. He seems to be using the early dawn light to write.

"I didn't realize anyone else was here yet," she says. "Forgive me."

"Don't trouble yourself about it," he insists, waving her worry away.

"What do you mean about me getting back to myself?"

"Oh, I… sorry, my big mouth. I heard my father talking about your… situation… in the weeks after the battle."

"My situation?"

"About how you were not eating," Arradon say, looking extremely uncomfortable.

"Oh."

"I wasn't trying to pass judgment on you. I was just speaking from experience. Well, not quite the same experience. I tried to quit the guard once, several hundred years ago. I made it about a month before my father convinced me to come back. Then, when I did come back, I was terrible."

Against her better judgment, Tauriel walks over and plops down into the grass beside Arradon.

"Your body is like a musical instrument," he continues. "You have to keep practicing for your optimum performance. If you don't practice for a while, it's going to take a bit to get back in the swing of things. But, also like when you learn a musical instrument, you develop muscle memory. You just have to remind yourself you know what you're doing and everything will fall into place. It took me twice as long to get back into shape as it took me to fall _out _of shape."

Tauriel nods thoughtfully, considering his words, and glances down at the papers in front of him. It's sheet music. It looks like he's composing his own piece.

"You really like music, don't you?" she asks.

"That's why I left," he admits.

"Why do you stay?"

"My father. He… it would cause a rift in my family. He says that perhaps one day, after reaching glory, I can retire from the guard and focus on something else. Like he did."

"You are a very talented warrior," Tauriel compliments. "If you are that talented doing something you don't like, I would love to hear you doing something you are passionate about."

She taps the papers in front of him.

"I don't have a lot of free time to practice. That's why I come out here so early."

Inspiration strikes, and Tauriel has an idea.

"How about we make a deal?" she asks.

"What kind of a deal?"

"You join me here every morning, before anyone else arrives, and help me train. In exchange I'll speak with the King to see if he might consider showcasing your music at the next full moon banquet. Then everyone will know where your true talents lie, and if the whole kingdom is bragging about you, your father will hardly be able to say you are wasting your time."

"You've never even heard my music," Arradon argues. "Why would you do this for me?"

"Like I said, I can't imagine how talented you must be at something you are passionate about. Call it a leap of faith. Besides, my motives are a bit selfish. I am in desperate need of a sparring partner to retrain with so I don't make a fool out of myself when I rejoin the guard… and you've already been witness to my currently abysmal skills."

_And the King said "remain watchful", what better way than to get close to Lord Haewon's son._

"Alright," Arradon beams, holding out his hand. "Deal!"

A tendril of guilt snakes into her gut as she shakes his hand, and she has to look away from the thrilled glint on his green eyes.

"When do you want to start?"

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>I have to say I am absolutely thrilled at how much the fandom for this ship seems to be growing! I'm seeing so much amazing artwork, and wonderful oneshots! Keep it up!

As always, thank you so much to everyone who reviews, I sincerely appreciate them, and read every single one, even if I don't always reply. (I do try to respond to direct questions, so long as it isn't asking for spoilers). Please let me know what you think of this chapter!


	10. Muscles and Music

Tauriel begins training with Arradon the very next morning. The pair meets in the early hours before dawn while the rest of the kingdom sleeps.

Placing her bow by her feet, Tauriel begins her stretching routine.

"You won't be needing that today," Arradon says, nodding towards her weapon.

"Beg pardon?"

"Your bow. We won't be using that today."

"Swords then?" she asks.

"No weapons," he corrects, joining her in stretching.

"How am I to run the course without weapons?"

"You're not ready for the course, you displayed that yesterday."

Tauriel's arms drop limply to her sides, and she angles to face him.

"How am I to improve if I don't challenge myself?"

To her increasing annoyance, Arradon laughs at her. She's beginning to wonder if she made the right choice in striking a bargain with the man.

"The problem is you aren't ready for the challenge. You need to build your strength and stamina back up. So, no weapons yet. Today is about rebuilding. Today is about _running._"

"What—?"

Before she can get her question out, Arradon shoots off in a full speed sprint away from her.

"Come on!" he calls over his shoulder, and she reluctantly follows.

They run lap after lap around the training pitch, and Tauriel grows weary much sooner than she knows she should. She can't match Arradon's pace even in the beginning, and by the end of her strength he's practically lapping her.

When she can take no more, Tauriel stops and hunches over, resting her hands on her knees and panting. Arradon, half a track ahead of her, finishes his lap before stopping beside her.

"I think… I'm going to… be sick," she pants.

He laughs.

_I'm really going to hate that laugh before long_, she thinks glaring at him out of the corner of her eye.

This only makes him laugh more.

"Are you quite finished?" he asks, when her breathing finally slows.

"Yeah. I think so."

"Good. Drop and give me push-ups."

She groans but does as he says, and he drops beside her. Arradon's form is perfect and he shows no signs of strain as he again surpasses her attempts at exercise.

"How many?" she asks.

"As many as you possibly can."

Tauriel bites her tongue from making a smart remark, but the smirk he shoots her suggests he knows what she was thinking.

After that they move on to sit-ups, and then back to more running. By the time dawn begins to spread its fingers overhead, Tauriel feels as if she's been in another battle for her life.

"How are you doing?" Arradon asks as they exit the pitch.

"Oh, you know. I'm doing okay," she tries to shrug, but winces instead. "You might have to carry me to my quarters, but other than that—"

"See you tomorrow?" he asks.

"Yes," she says.

_If I don't die_…

He's chuckling as he walks away and Tauriel can't help but shake her head.

They spend a full week and a half working on rebuilding her stamina before Arradon will even consider starting on weapons. The first few days this really irritates Tauriel, she _is _the youngest captain ever, after all. She got the job for a reason. She isn't some elfling wishing to play with ada's weapons as if they are toys.

Soon though, she realizes she _isn't _ready. She can't even run properly on her own, how could she manage it while weighted down with weapons? Her arms still quiver while doing push-ups, how can she draw her bowstring and hold position, waiting for the moment to fire?

She momentarily wonders how Arradon could want to leave the guard when he is clearly so skilled, but then Tauriel realizes she is verging on agreeing with Lord Haewon about something and quickly dismisses the thought.

_Arradon should do what makes him happy._

At the end of her third week of training, she almost feels like herself again.

"I think you'll be ready to rejoin the guard by the next full moon," Arradon tells her after a morning of target practice and dodging objects he was throwing at her.

"Really?"

"You did outrun me this morning."

She smiles proudly.

"I'll speak to the King about your music," Tauriel insists.

"Thank you."

"No, thank you. I finally feel like… _me _again. Well, almost me."

"Glad to help. Maybe something good came out of me joining the guard after all."

"Arradon?" she asks, shyly. "Did you tell your father you have been training with me?"

This is the first time she's brought up Lord Haewon. Though she had originally intended to pump Arradon for information, she could never bring herself to do it. For one, it was clear the two don't exactly get along, and another, it felt _wrong_.

Arradon is so very different from his father, and he has helped her so much, it felt like a betrayal to use him in that way.

"No, I didn't," he says.

"Why not?"

"Well, at first it was because I thought he would interfere with our deal, but after spending more time with you… I thought he might somehow try to use the information against you," he admits. "He's not very fond of you."

"I've noticed," she drawls. "Thank you. I— it means a lot to me."

"See you tomorrow?"

Tauriel smiles and nods, and Arradon bows to her before heading on his way.

Back in her bedchamber, Arodeth is waiting for Tauriel with a hot bath drawn to help ease her aching muscles.

"You are sent from above," Tauriel tells her with a happy sigh as she sinks into the steaming tub.

The fresh smell of flower blossoms wafts through the air, courtesy of the scented oils in the water.

She places a warm, wet, cloth over eyes and relaxes her head on the edge of the tub.

The last few weeks she's been spending all her time while not training, hidden away in her room, either reading, or passing the time with Arodeth.

She hasn't wanted to be seen out and about and have people questioning why she wasn't back at work. Perhaps this way they'll just assume she's working on something important rather than viewing her as weak.

During this self-imposed isolation, Tauriel has seen no one aside from Arradon and Arodeth, including the King.

_Now I must ask him for a favor, after he has already done so much for me._

Thinking of her last encounter with the King, Tauriel can't banish the embarrassment that flares in her stomach. She doesn't know why she kissed him. Granted, it was only on the cheek, but that still screams intimacy among the elves.

She tries to blame it on her time spent with Bard's daughters. Mortals are so… _affectionate._

Every time the girls would come across someone else they knew, who they thought had perished in the fire, the girls would throw their arms around them, sometimes kissing cheeks.

_Yes, that's what it was,_ she insists, ignoring the nagging feeling in her chest.

She decides to seek him out in the garden, hoping he will be there tonight.

Tauriel doesn't want to go to the King's study. That would make this a formal visit, one in which she couldn't request privacy if advisors were in the room. And her request is not a formal one, but a personal one.

She passes the day as she has her others recently, though there is much more pacing than reading today.

As the sun slips away Tauriel makes her way to the garden.

It's empty when she gets there, save for the chirps of insects hidden among the flowers. She settles onto the bench beside the pond, prepared to wait all night if she must.

She yawns loudly, wishing she had taken a nap earlier. Tauriel shakes her head, banishing sleepy thoughts from her mind.

Or trying to at least…

X

Thranduil hasn't been able to focus in days. His informants have gleaned that Lord Haewon is cultivating his network. He's doing favors for well-connected families all over the kingdom, earning favor in return.

If it were anyone else, Thranduil would say they were only being nice out of the kindness in their hearts, but Haewon does nothing unless it can somehow help him in return.

_If only I knew what he was planning!_

Thranduil shoves his dinner plate away, almost untouched, which only turns his mind to Tauriel.

He hasn't seen her in weeks. Not since she told him she was going to begin training again. Not since she kissed his cheek.

Absentmindedly his hand wanders to his face and he traces his fingers over the spot her lips brushed against him.

He doesn't know why he expects her to keep in close contact. It is probably for the best they distance themselves after the trial.

After all, all he ever wanted was to ensure she wouldn't let herself fade in her grief. Now that it is clear she is well on the road to recovery his interest should pass.

_Yet it hasn't._

He's been visiting the garden every night, something he has not done since Legolas was little.

Thranduil tells himself to stop, not to go tonight, and instead focus on more important matters at hand. Like the roaming bands of orcs stalking through the forests, displaced after most of their company died.

He resists.

_Almost_.

He journeys to the garden much later than usual, and tonight he finds he is not alone.

He can hear Tauriel's voice as soon as he steps through the gate, and at first thinks she must be talking to herself, but her tone is frightened.

Rushing over to the pond, Thranduil finds Tauriel asleep on the bench, muttering fearfully.

"Tauriel," he says softly, resting an arm on her shoulder.

She doesn't wake, only mutters louder.

"Please," she begs, "please no."

"It's only a nightmare. Wake up."

He shakes her shoulder gently, and when that doesn't work he tries a little harder.

"No, no, no," she whimpers.

He sees tearstains glistening on her cheeks, and kneels beside her, pleading with her to wake up.

Her cries only grow louder, and finally Thranduil can bear it no longer. He carefully lifts her from the bench and lays her on the ground beside him, resting her head in his lap.

He wipes the tears from her cheeks, and begins to sing a soft lullaby.

"_Quildë írima, alnîr_

_Este sin, holya hensta_

_Morna taië munta tó caurë_

_Nauva berialyë, illumë har _

_Hush, lovely, do not cry_

_Rest now, close your eyes_

_In darkness there is naught to fear_

I will protect you, always near"

Her cries grow softer, until they fade completely. She still trembles so he continues to hum to her, gently stroking her hair until she calms.

Her features soften and the troubled mask she wears begins to fade.

Thranduil knows he should wake her now that the nightmare has passed, but she looks so peaceful he can hardly bring himself to do it.

So much trouble and heartbreak has plagued her recently, it is a welcome change to see her so serene.

"Kili," she breaths, and he fights back his distaste. "My Ki… my King."

Thranduil stiffens, wondering if he misheard.

He waits a few moments, but when she doesn't speak again, he decides he must wake her.

"Tauriel," calls. "Wake up."

She jerks awake suddenly, blinking up at him in confusion as he leans over her.

"My King?"

She sits up abruptly, looking around trying to gather her bearings.

"What happened?"

"You were sleeping when I arrived," he explained. "You were having a nightmare and I couldn't wake you."

"Oh. I'm sorry, please forgive me," she apologizes. "I came out here to talk to you, and must have drifted off while waiting. I've been training again, and it's been quite exhausting, and—"

"No need to apologize, please," he insists. "What did you wish to talk about?"

Thranduil pulls himself up onto the bench and offers Tauriel a helping hand where she still sits on the ground. She accepts it gratefully, and he tugs her up to sit beside him.

"Well," she begins, hands knotting the fabric of her dress in her lap, "I needed to ask you a favor. Which I know is terribly rude considering all you have already—"

"What is this favor?"

She explains to him the deal she struck with Lord Haewon's son, Arradon, and he listens intently. Tauriel tells him about the rift between father and son, and how at first she thought she could use Arradon for information, but now she just wishes to help him.

"You are no spy," he says, hiding his smirk.

She glares at him.

"I mean that as a compliment. Spies are tricky, sneaky, ne'er-do-wells who deal in lies and deceit. You are an honest woman, Tauriel; never afraid to speak your mind or to speak for what you believe is right."

"Thank you," she whispers.

"I'll do it. Arradon's music will be showcased next week at the Feast of Isilmë. Send him to speak with the royal musicians."

"Really?" she beams.

Thranduil nods, relishing in her happiness.

"Wait," she starts, smile slipping. "If you do this, it's only going to infuriate Lord Haewon. He'll see it as a betrayal."

"Well, perhaps it is time for him to taste some of his own medicine."

Thranduil had already thought about Haewon's displeasure as soon as she mentioned the familial rift. He hopes it will drive Haewon into action, giving him the opportunity to see what the councilman is really up to.

Tauriel yawns beside him, and tries to hide it.

"You _are_ exhausted, aren't you?"

"Yes," she laughs, "Arradon has really been wearing me out."

Thranduil ignores the prickle at the back of his mind from the ease in which the other man's name falls from her lips.

"You should retire for the night. Let me walk you to your chambers," he offers.

"Oh, that isn't necessary."

"I insist."

"Um, thank you."

The halls are deserted at this late hour, and their journey is uninterrupted. They walk in comfortable silence, each shooting glances at the other out of the corner of their eyes when they think it won't be noticed.

He leaves her at her door with a quiet goodnight and a bow, each step as he walks away feeling heavier than the last.

X

Tauriel climbs into bed with an odd fluttering in her chest. Something that feels vaguely familiar, and yet altogether foreign at the same time.

As she drifts off her mind plays her a lullaby, sung in a voice that makes her sure she must have imagined it.

The next morning Tauriel is bobbing with excitement when she meets Arradon on the training pitch. He's still a good twenty feet away from her when she spills the good news.

"He said yes!" she bursts, bounding over to him. "The King, he said yes. He's going to showcase your music at the Feast of Isilmë next week!"

"No!" he says, disbelieving.

"Yes!"

Arradon runs his hands through his hair, shaking his head in shock.

"Come with me," he says after a moment, holding out his hand.

"What about training?" she asks.

"You could use a break. Please?"

Tauriel takes his hand and follows him.

Arradon leads her through hallway after hallway until they come to rest outside of an area she's never been before.

When he opens the door and she follows him through, Tauriel stares around in awe. There are hundreds upon hundreds of musical instruments lining the walls.

"This is the hall of music," Arradon explains. "It's open to the public, but few ever use it. All of these instruments are available to anyone to play. This is where I taught myself when father would not aid my thirst for knowledge."

"It's beautiful."

"I want to play for you," he explains. "I haven't shared my music with anyone for hundreds of years, and I want you to be the first."

"Arradon," Tauriel sighs, "that is so kind. I would love to hear you play."

He walks to the furthest wall removing an instrument from its mount; a violin.

He strikes a few notes and then pauses to turn the knobs on the neck, tuning the instrument.

When he next begins to play, Tauriel has trouble finding her breath.

The melody he strums is so beautiful, and haunting. It feels as if he is pulling each note from her very soul.

She stands mesmerized, rooted to the spot, until his final note fades. Only then does she realize she is once again crying.

He lowers the instrument slowly, staring at her imploringly, but refusing to ask the question he desperately needs answered.

"Oh, Arradon," she breaths, "that was exquisite. I—I just…"

Tauriel can't find the words. Instead she falls back on what the mortals taught her and she crosses the room to wrap her arms around him.

He laughs nervously, and pats her on the back after a slight pause.

Neither are aware of eyes watching them from the doorway.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>As always, thank you so much for your support, I love hearing from you! The Elvish in the lullaby is probably a very terrible translation, so I apologize, and yes I know it only rhymes in English, but oh well... I wanted to make make the next feast some sort of canon holiday or celebration (as this should be taking place somewhere in January, as Durin's Day falls in November), but the Elvish Calendar is strange and very difficult for me to decipher, sooo yeah. Hope you are okay with totally bogus celebrations!

Isilmë - Moonlight


	11. The Feast of Isilmë

Thranduil had only wished to see how Tauriel's training was going.

He knew she and Arradon were meeting in the early hours of the morning to practice without anyone watching, and so he got there early to watch.

Only, instead of practicing the pair wandered off holding hands. The distrust Thranduil feels for Lord Haewon was enough to force him to follow them… to ensure Tauriel's safety of course.

_Why else would I follow them?_

He stayed a distance behind them, remaining out of sight. At one point he even lost sight of them after they rounded a corner. It was the haunting music that led him to them.

Thranduil stood in the hallway, out of sight, but angled to see into the hall of music.

He was entranced.

Not just by the eerie melody vibrating through his bones, but by Tauriel. She stood sideways in front of the door, and Thranduil could not take his eyes off of her profile.

She was clutching her chest with a look of awe on her face, and her lips were parted with a sigh. The light behind her made her flame colored hair blaze like the setting sun.

_Such beauty._

When the echo of the last note fades, Thranduil blinks his daze away, trying to ignore the rising pressure in his chest.

When Tauriel throws herself at Arradon, the pressure in Thranduil's chest turns to fire and he must force himself to remain silent.

He turns and marches away, wondering why he ever agreed to let Haewon's dreadful offspring provide the music for his next feast.

X

The next day when Tauriel arrives at the training pitch, Arradon is already waiting for her.

"What's the plan for today?" she asks. "Can I run the course yet?"

"I thought today we could do some sparring, after our warm-up run."

"Sparring sounds fun, but I must admit I'm rather tired of running laps. Not physically, I mean. It's just boring."

"Really?" Arradon says, laughing. "Alright, how about something new? I'm going to place this medallion over there by the gate. You have to get there, pick it up, and run it to the other side of the pitch."

He pulls a necklace from the inside of his shirt and takes it off, holding up a medallion pendant.

"That's it?"

"You have to do it without getting caught."

Arradon jogs across the pitch to the wooden gate and hangs the necklace from it, then returns to stand beside her.

"I'll give you a three second head start," he says, nodding to her. "Go!"

Smirk on her face, Tauriel speeds off, racing for the gate. Behind her she hears Arradon counting, and when he hits three she pushes herself faster.

She has no problem reaching the necklace, but when she scoops it up and turns to double back she finds her obstacle. Arradon isn't racing towards her… he is slowly pacing back and forth in front of her. He knows she has to come back and is just waiting for her next move.

Tauriel runs just above half speed, heading for his left. When she gets close she ups her pace and dives to his right instead, just managing to sidestep him.

"Ha!" she cries, sprinting as fast as she can for the other side of the pitch.

Her goal is just feet away from her, and thinking she's in the clear Tauriel looks back over her shoulder.

This is a mistake.

It costs her time, and it's just enough for Arradon to make a dive for her legs. He tackles her to the ground holding her legs, and she tries to wiggle free.

"I've still got it!" she taunts, waving the medallion.

"Not for long!"

Arradon makes a grab for it while still trying to hold her legs with one arm, but Tauriel only laughs and holds her arm up above her head.

"Training hard I see."

Both Arradon and Tauriel twist to see who is speaking, finding King Thranduil standing over them.

Arradon quickly releases Tauriel's legs and jumps to his feet.

"Your majesty," he says, bowing.

Seeing Tauriel still on the ground, Arradon offers her a hand and pulls her to her feet.

"My King. What brings you out here so early?" she asks.

The King barely looks at her and Tauriel feels like a child who has just been caught sneaking extra sweets from the kitchens.

"I knew to find you out here. Arradon, I thought it might be a good idea for you to use the remaining mornings before the feast to meet with the royal musicians," Thranduil says.

"I—I would love to," Arradon insists, "but I did promise Tauriel I would help her train."

"Oh, no," Tauriel says, turning to place her hand on his arm, "you should go. It's important. I can manage on my own."

"I promised, though. I wouldn't feel right leaving you on your own."

"No, really—"

"I can help her," Thranduil interrupts. "I could use a good spar."

Both Arradon and Tauriel turn to stare at him in unison, shocked.

"I couldn't ask that of you, my King," Tauriel says, bowing her head.

"You did not. I offered. Will that be suitable for both of you?" he asks.

"Is it all right with you?" Arradon asks, turning back to Tauriel.

He won't say it, and Tauriel knows if she asked he would stay, but Arradon wants this so badly she of course agrees.

"Yes, it's fine. You go prepare your music. I can't wait to hear more of it."

"Excellent!" Arradon exclaims. "Thank you, both of you."

He bows once more to the King and turns away.

"Oh!" Tauriel exclaims. "Your medallion."

She hands it back to Arradon and he gives her a cheeky grin, and leans in to whisper in her ear.

"I win."

She playfully punches his arm, but can't help but laugh.

"Are we going to spar, or are you going to stand there mooning all morning?" Thranduil asks after Arradon exits the gate.

"Mooning?"

"Grab your sword."

Tauriel doesn't have time to wonder what it is he meant before they are both armed and facing off.

They use blunted training swords, and the weight feels all wrong in her hands. She's so used to her own blades that this foreign weapon makes her feel like a fledging recruit.

The King counts off their start and then comes at her much harder than she anticipates, knocking her back almost immediately. Tauriel manages to stay on her feet, but she's been put on the defense and is finding it hard to block his continuous blow after blow.

Not long into their first round her sword is sent flying from her hands, and she has the blunted point of the King's sword to her throat.

Thranduil stoops to pick it up and tosses it to her.

"Again," he says, charging in.

There has never been any question that the King is the best swordsman in the entire kingdom, so Tauriel expects him to be a challenge. What she didn't expect was for him to come at her with everything he's got.

Barely thirty seconds pass before her weapon is again knocked from her hand.

"Again."

"I thought this was training?" She asks, panting.

"Oh, is that what you do out here?" he asks coolly.

"What does that mean?"

"Only that whatever you were doing when I arrived hardly looked like training."

She stares at him in confusion, wondering why he sounds so upset.

"Well we were. It was… sort of a version of capture the banner. We were—" she pauses, wondering why she's explaining herself. "What does it matter?"

"It doesn't," he answers quickly.

"Fine. Shall we train then, or not?"

Tauriel finds herself feeling fed up with the King's swift mood changes. First he shows so much concern for her wellbeing after the battle, but then he all but ignores her at the memorial. Next, he lies to the entire kingdom for her, and just two nights ago he cradled her in his lap to ease her nightmares, yet today he is cold fury.

She has no idea what is sending him from one extreme to the other, but at the moment she doesn't care.

_I am not some tamed beast he can take his anger out on, only to then offer a kind word and a pat on the head to earn my forgiveness. _

Retrieving her sword from the dirt, Tauriel takes her fighting stance with steely determination.

This time neither of them counts off.

The King makes the first move, lunging forward, but Tauriel is ready and easily sidesteps him. She spins and makes a counterstrike, but he's too fast and brings his blade up to block her.

Sparks fly as their blades scrape down one another with a metallic clang, and Tauriel takes the offensive.

All of her anger and frustrations at Thranduil's mood swings pour from her heart, down her arm, and into her blade. Her strikes are fast and strong, but he blocks them as if swatting a fly.

He bares his teeth in a snarl as he advances on her, and she ducks a hit that comes awfully close to her head.

Tauriel aims a feinted shot to his right and when he moves to block her, she jumps launching herself at his left.

She grabs his arm and swings her legs through the air, twisting to wrap them up and around his neck. Tauriel is sitting on Thranduil's shoulders and tries to bring her sword arcing downward to land the winning blow, but Thranduil is too fast for her.

He once again blocks her, sending her own sword flying from her grasp. Using the hand not gripping his sword he grabs ahold of Tauriel and tries to pulls her loose from his shoulders to toss her to the ground.

As she comes loose, Tauriel swiftly turns and twists, locking her legs around Thranduil's waist.

The both tumble to the ground, landing on their sides, but the King is quick to roll and pin Tauriel.

His blunted blade is placed to her throat and she stares up into his piercing blue eyes, panting.

The ground is cold and hard beneath her back, but honestly she is barely aware of that or the cool steel pressed to her throat. All she can feel is the heat radiating from the large torso pressing into her.

Tauriel is hyper-aware of every breath he's taking, and the way his eyes are ever so slowly softening.

"Tauriel," he says, voice gentle and soft as a whisper.

_Here he goes, swinging the other way…_

_No. I can't do this again today._

Tauriel's hand slips into her belt and pulls free the dagger the King gave her. She presses it to his side, not hard enough to cut him, but firm enough he knows what it is.

"Point to me," she says, interrupting whatever he was about to say.

The softness in his eyes vanishes and the shield is back in place.

Thranduil rolls off of her and jumps to his feet, regarding her coolly once more.

"Thank you, my King," she says, bowing, "for humoring me. I think I am done training for today. Do not worry yourself about helping me the rest of the week, I'll be focusing on the obstacle course."

"It was my pleasure," he replies, "and if you do change your mind about wanting help, do not hesitate to ask."

"Thank you," she repeats, then turns away, leaving the King standing alone on the practice pitch, clutching his blunted sword.

When Tauriel arrives back at her room Arodeth is there, waiting for her, with breakfast.

"Tough training day?" Arodeth asks when Tauriel throws herself onto the bed in a huff.

"That man is _infuriating!_"

"What did Lord Arradon do? I thought you were fond of him?"

"No, not Arradon," Tauriel corrects, "the King!"

"You've been to see the King this morning?"

Arodeth brings her a glass of water, and perches on the edge of the bed.

"No, he came to send Arradon off to prepare his music, and then tried to take over my training. I thought it would be a nice opportunity, considering how great a warrior he is, but it was hardly a training session at all!" Tauriel rants. "First he accuses me of mooning over Arradon, and then he attacks me with everything he has! Of course then he almost has one of his sweeping mood changes and I could tell he was about to say something kind, but I wasn't having it. What is his problem?"

She sighs, exasperated, and sits up to take the glass of water from Arodeth. She sips at it, sincerely wishing for something a bit stronger.

Tauriel waits for Arodeth to say something, but the maid keeps her mouth closed, giving her a knowing look before standing up.

"What?" Tauriel asks. "What do you know?"

"I know nothing, my Lady."

"Don't 'my Lady' me, you know better than that. What does that look mean."

"What look?" Arodeth asks, turning away.

"Arodeth! Please, I'm going to end up aiming another arrow at his face."

The maid sighs, and turns back to face her.

"He accused you of mooning over Arradon, and then he took his anger out on you in training?"

"Yes," Tauriel says.

Arodeth gives her a pointed look.

"What? You're not… implying he— he was _jealous?_"

The maid doesn't respond, just purses her lips and looks away.

"No! That's— that's preposterous! Why would he be? It's not as if he thinks of me… in that way." Tauriel shakes her head. "No."

"Of course, my Lady," Arodeth says airily. "I don't know what I was thinking."

"I mean it! That's _not_ what's going on."

Arodeth only nods, wearing a look that clearly says she disagrees, and excuses herself before Tauriel can deny it again.

_Preposterous,_ she thinks. _He was probably upset because he wants me to rejoin the guard and thought I was slacking off._

_Yes. Much more likely._

Every morning the rest of the week, Tauriel gets up early and still takes to the training pitch. As she told Thranduil, she focuses on the obstacle course.

Her first run through is a little sloppy, but nowhere near as bad as her first try back a month ago. Her time is nearly back to what it was before her momentary health decline.

By the end of the week, much to Tauriel's pleasure, she even manages to shave another twenty seconds off of her best time on the course.

When she finishes that final run through, her breathing barely affected by the exercise, she's surprised to hear applause.

Tauriel looks around to find the culprit, and finds Arradon watching her.

"Much, much better than that sorry excuse for a run I saw the day we struck our bargain," he says.

"Oh yes. I'm back on top," she says, smiling. "Thanks to you."

"No, it was all you. You did the work."

"Yes, but you helped. I was so overwhelmed when I began, you helped keep me focused."

"Perhaps I did," he shrugs. "In that case, would you permit me a favor?"

"Perhaps."

"Would you attend the Feast of Isilmë with me?" Arradon asks.

"Oh," Tauriel bites her lip.

She doesn't want to give Arradon the wrong impression, but she doesn't particularly want to go on her own either. And he is rather sweet, and makes her laugh.

"I would love to," she insists.

_He's my friend,_ she thinks, _and he knows that. That is all this is._

"Really? Excellent, thank you!" he exclaims. "I'm very nervous about tonight, and aside from the musicians I've been working with, you're the only one who's heard my music recently. I'd feel much better facing tonight with a friend."

They make arrangements for Arradon to meet Tauriel at her chambers just before the start of the feast, and he hurries off to finish last minute preparations with the musicians.

X

Thranduil waits until the party is well underway before making his appearance. The crowd parts respectfully as he enters, people bowing as he walks by.

Waiters throughout the hall are offering refreshments, and the wine is flowing freely. People are smiling and genuinely enjoying themselves. It's a much more lighthearted atmosphere than the last event, Thranduil notes, and he is glad that joy is again finding his people.

The music, he begrudgingly notices, is beautiful. It's very different from what they normally feature, but everyone seems to be enjoying it. The center of the hall is filled with dancing couples, twirling intricately to the lilting melody.

Thranduil grabs a goblet of wine from a passing waiter and sips it with a satisfied smirk. He's known for his parties, and this one looks like another hit.

"Beautiful music tonight, my Lord."

"Yes, it is, isn't it?" he replies, looking to find the councilwoman, Lady Neleth, by his side.

Tonight she has her golden hair swept back from her face, and she wears a purple gown of silk.

"There is a rumor going around that it is the work of Lord Haewon's son, Arradon," she comments, her dark eyes studying him closely.

"I can confirm the truth of that. Arradon is a talented young man. He is wasted in the guard."

"Lord Haewon is livid."

"Well, he will just have to learn to let his son pursue what makes him happy. It is a sad truth all fathers must face," Thranduil adds, mind drifting momentarily to Legolas. "If music is Arradon's passion, so be it."

"Oh, no," Neleth says, "not the music. That's far from his primary concern tonight. He's much more upset with Arradon's… _other _pursuits."

She gestures out into the center of the hall, towards the dancing couples.

Thranduil looks, searching for her meaning.

When his gaze locks onto Arradon, his eyes narrow and he feels his jaw clench. The boy has his arms firmly locked around Tauriel. They are spinning gracefully through the other couples, smiling and laughing.

Thranduil can't take his eyes off of her.

Tonight Tauriel is dressed in sweeping gown of navy velvet, studded in diamonds. It looks as if it was crafted from the night sky, and she is bedecked in stars. Her hair, normally pulled back in braids, hangs free tonight in long waves.

As Thranduil watches, Arradon pulls Tauriel close and then dips her low, earning another laugh from her.

"Imagine the scandal if they married," says Lady Neleth, also watching the pair. "I mean they are ideally suited to one another. Tauriel's respected place among the guard makes her more than a match for him, but Lord Haewon's dislike for the poor girl is well known. People would never stop talking about it."

Thranduil takes a deep drink of his wine.

"They're only dancing," he scoffs.

"Yes, but they've been dancing all night, and don't they look… familiar with one another?"

He grits his teeth once again and mumbles some excuse before slipping away, wanting to hear no more of Lady Neleth's musings.

Mingling through the crowd, Thranduil makes small talk with several people, smiling and laughing as necessary, but he always keeps the dance floor in sight.

He notices he's not the only one studying the pair; on the far side of the room, draining glass after glass, Lord Haewon is watching as well with a dark look on his face.

Finally, after watching Arradon whisper into Tauriel's ear, and her pull back with a smile and flushed cheeks, Thranduil can't take it anymore.

He cuts through the crowd, heading straight for them.

Tauriel is the first to see him, and the smile slips from her face.

"My King," she says, bowing, and Arradon follows suit.

"Tonight seems to be a great success," Thranduil says. "People can't stop talking about your music."

"Thank you, my King. I owe it to you for giving me this chance."

"How would you like another?" Thranduil asks. "I think you should perform a piece yourself."

"I—I— really?" Arradon asks, beaming.

"Attention!" Thranduil calls, and slowly the hall falls to silence, all eyes turning to him. "I would like to a moment to bring attention to the man responsible for tonight's entertainment."

He grabs Arradon's elbow and pulls him next to him.

"Lord Arradon has shown an amazing talent for the arts, and great talent deserves great recognition. Let us now show our appreciation, and beg to hear one of his own performances!"

The crowd erupts in applause and cheering, and Arradon turns bright red, offering a bow. He nods his head in agreement, and moves to join the musicians.

The tune they strike is slow and eerie, yet beautiful nonetheless. Slowly couples return to dancing, holding each other close and intimately.

Thranduil turns back towards Tauriel, who is staring at the ground.

"Would you… care to dance?" he asks.

She looks up, surprised.

"Or," he says, leaning closer, "if you prefer you can speak with Lord Haewon. He's headed our way right now."

A quick glance over her shoulder and Tauriel sees the angry, stumbling Lord.

"I would love to dance," she replies.

Thranduil offers her his hand and leads her onto the floor.

He doesn't think this should lead to much gossip; he does dance quite often at these gatherings, taking turns with the women of the council or even sometimes choosing someone at random from the crowd.

He places a hand on her waist, ignoring the tingle in his fingers as he does so, and they slip into the familiar twirling motions, moving to the slow tune of the song.

X

Tauriel can feel the eyes on them, following their movements, but that slowly begins to fade.

The song's languid pace begins to speed up, and she feels as she did the other day, as if each note is being pulled from her soul.

The King's eyes are locked with hers, and the faster the songs speeds up the closer they become. The hall slips away until all that is left is the music, the fingers on her hips, and Thranduil's haunting eyes.

The music begins to swell and he spins her grandly, pulling her back in and dipping her low. He holds her there, staring into her eyes, and Tauriel can't help but glance at his lips, only a few breaths away, and wonder if perhaps he _was _jealous that day on the pitch.

Thoughts of the pitch bring forth thoughts of Arradon, which pulls her back to the present. She realizes, horrified, that the music has ended and whispers have begun.

"My King?" she whispers

Thranduil blinks and seems to come back to himself. He stands tall and pulls her up with him. Then releasing her he gestures towards the musicians and begins to clap.

The rest of the crowd follows his lead, but Tauriel can still see them staring and whispering to one another.

Feeling overwhelmed, she slips into the crowd and heads for the exit.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>It's getting harder for our pair to ignore their chemistry! Please let me know what you think!


	12. Confrontations

Tauriel weaves through the crowd, acutely aware of all the looks she's getting and the whispers following her.

While not entirely sure what exactly _that_ was out on the dance floor, she does know it drew a lot of unwanted attention.

Once outside the great hall, she pauses, trying to steady her nerves.

In the heat of battle she can be as cold and hard as steel, but when it comes to social intricacies she finds herself outside of her comfort zone.

"I never expected you two to be so careless," says a haughty voice from behind her. "You may as well have pledged yourself to one another right then and there."

Recognizing the voice, Tauriel doesn't feel threatened, just annoyed.

"Good evening, Lord Haewon," she forces, as he paces out in front of her. "I'm not sure I know what you are referring to."

"Really?" he questions. "Everyone is already talking about it."

"Is there something you actually wanted, or are you going to stand here all night speaking of things you know nothing about? I know that is your specialty."

"To the point then… stay away from my son."

"I beg your pardon?"

"You heard me," Haewon growls. "Stay away from my son!"

Tauriel feels her temper rising.

"I am getting extremely tired of aristocratic old men telling me who I can and cannot spend my time with!" she exclaims. "I will do as I please, thank you very much."

She attempts to step around him, but the councilman blocks her path.

"Haven't you done enough damage?" he asks. "First, you use your connection to the King to steal rank from Arradon, and now you are going to push him out of the Guard all together?"

"What are you talking about? I didn't steal rank from anyone! And I certainly didn't use some made up connection to get it!"

"I have it on good authority that my son was to be promoted to Captain, and then out of nowhere some little nobody Silvan slattern gets the position instead!"

Tauriel balks at his slur.

"How dare you—"

"How dare I what? Tell the truth? Admit it! You used Prince Legolas to get closer to the King and get your position! Then cast Legolas aside when he was of no further use. I bet your "special mission" was that dwarf you were making doe-eyes at. What? Did King Thranduil send you to seduce the lost jewels out of him?"

She doesn't even know where to begin. Tauriel has no idea what jewels he is talking about, and the rest of it is so preposterous it leaves her blanking to find adequate insults.

"It's a shame he went and got himself killed, your dwarf," the councilman continues. "It was probably better for him, though, imagine the embarrassment he would have suffered when you betrayed him."

Tauriel is saved from responding when Arradon springs from behind her and punches Lord Haewon in the jaw. She gasps and grabs Arradon's shoulder when he makes another move to attack.

"No," she protests, "don't! He's not worth it!"

Arradon turns to her and there is an anger in his usually kind eyes that she's never seen before.

"He should not have said those things to you!" he spits.

"Son," Lord Haewon starts, pausing to spit a mouthful of blood, "are you really going to let this lowborn hussy come between us?"

Growling, Arradon makes another lunge for his father, but Tauriel pulls him back.

"Please, don't," she pleads. "Let's just go."

"Just so you know," Arradon says, glaring at Lord Haewon, "I _was_ offered a Captain's position. I turned it down. This was never my dream. It was yours."

Tauriel pushes her shock aside and leads Arradon away, leaving the stunned and bloodied councilman all alone.

"I'll walk you to your room," Arradon tells her as they round the corner.

"You didn't have to do that," she says.

"Somebody needed to. He has gotten away with his lies and slander for far too long. He needs to know there are consequences."

"Well, thank you."

He just grunts and nods in response.

"What you said to him," Tauriel starts, "about turning down a promotion? When was that?"

"Probably just before you received yours. I guess that explains why my father seems to hate you. Sorry about that."

"Don't be. I guess if anything I should thank you. If you hadn't turned down the position, I may never have been made Captain."

"I wouldn't say that. Prince Legolas was lobbying pretty hard for you to get the position. I saw you train once, back when you first joined the guard, and you had so much passion for it. You were made for it."

An almost overwhelming wave of longing washes over Tauriel. She misses Legolas. She misses the days when things were simple between them, fun and competitive. Back before he believed himself in love with her.

He had been her best teacher, and her closest friend.

She wants to clear the air with Arradon, to make it perfectly clear she only wishes to be friends, but she doesn't know how to approach the topic without sounding like a narcissist. Instead she remains quiet.

When they get to her room, Arradon opens the door for her and she gets a look at his hand. Gasping she grabs it and looks at his bruised knuckles.

"You should put something on this," she suggests, gently prodding the area and checking for fractures.

He winces, but shrugs.

"It'll be fine. You should get some rest, though. Aren't you returning to work tomorrow?"

"Yes. I'm terrified to face everyone. Will you be there?"

"In the morning," he says. "I have to tender my resignation."

"You're leaving? I—I mean that's great for you."

She plasters on a smile, and the look on his face says he can see right through it. It isn't that she's not happy for him, she wants him to follow his dream, but she'll be on her own now.

"You'll do great. How about we do dinner next week to discuss our progress, yeah?"

"Yeah," she agrees, this time smiling for real.

"Oh, sorry, didn't mean to interrupt."

Arradon and Tauriel both turn to find Arodeth standing there, having just come around the corner.

"Arradon, this is my friend, Arodeth," Tauriel introduces.

"Pleasure to meet you, my Lady," Arradon smirks, offering her a bow.

"And you… Sir," Arodeth breathes.

"Well, I should be on my way," he tells them. "Good evening, ladies."

"Oh, my," Arodeth mumbles, following Tauriel into her room. "You never mentioned how handsome he was."

"I guess I didn't notice," Tauriel shrugs. "What brings you here so late?"

"Hmm?"

Arodeth is staring down the hallway.

She blushes when she sees Tauriel watching her, and closes the door.

"Oh, well, I just wanted to see if you needed anything," the maid says, entirely unconvincing.

"What did you hear?" Tauriel demands, fearing Lord Haewon was right and the rumor mill is spinning already.

"Nothing. Why, should I have?"

"Um, no. It's just… why are you really here?"

"I wanted to check on you," Arodeth sighs. "I know how legendary King Thranduil's parties are, and it's just that you've been sober for over a month now. I would hate to see you backslide."

Tauriel is both embarrassed, and touched. She regrets ever being so weak as to dull her senses to escape, but she can't help but be thankful she has someone looking out for her.

"I'm fine, thank you."

"What is it you thought I heard?"

"I'd rather not discuss it right now," Tauriel apologizes. "I'm a little overwhelmed, and could really use some sleep."

"Of course, just let me know if you need anything."

After Arodeth leaves, Tauriel strips and climbs into bed. More than anything she'd love to visit the garden and sit in the night air, but she fears it would do little to clear her mind. She also doesn't want to risk running into the King tonight. Not after whatever _that_ was on the dance floor.

Burying her face in her pillow, she tries to banish all thoughts and fall asleep, but her mind won't stop buzzing.

_Are people really talking about what happened? Or was Haewon just trying to get a rise out of me? _

_Has he really been after me just because he thought I stole his son's promotion? _

_What a lunatic!_

_There has to be more to the story than that…_

_Was the King really jealous the other day? Do I want him to be jealous? Does it make me a bad person for even considering it?_

_What about Kili?_

_How many people know about Kili? How many now think he was a mission?_

Over and over, questions she doesn't have answers to bounce back and forth. It feels like hours before pure exhaustion finally claims her.

Arodeth returns in the morning with a big breakfast to wake her. Tauriel hates the idea of getting out of bed, but the sudden realization that today is _the _day she rejoins the guard sends a rush of adrenaline coursing through her veins.

It's enough to get her up, dressed, and picking over breakfast.

"Good luck today!" Arodeth wishes her as Tauriel walks out the door.

X

After Tauriel fled, Thranduil had wanted to go after her, but he feared he had made enough of a scene already.

Instead he tried to ease the possible gossip by dancing with as many women as possible. A few he even danced with multiple times. Lady Neleth, for instance, had been particularly clingy. He'd had a hard time shaking the woman without being rude.

What nobody knew was that his numerous partners all had one thing in common: the way he compared them all to Tauriel in his mind as they danced.

More accurately, he tallied up the ways they didn't compare.

Thranduil came to the sudden, and horrifying, conclusion that he may be developing some sort of _attraction _to his Captain.

He had rebelled from the thought at first, but the more he attempted to ignore it, the more persistent it got.

When he finally retired for the night, and was left with nothing but his thoughts, he tried to come up with a logical reason behind these new feelings.

He argued that having rescued her when she was young, he's always felt a bit protective. Now, after she has suffered the loss of a (would be) lover, he probably feels closer to her because of the shared experience. Thranduil concludes that those two factors when combined with her concern for Legolas must add up to his sudden interest.

_That's all. Nothing more. It will pass._

However, the next day when Thranduil finds himself in his council room face to face with Tauriel, all logical reasons evaporate and he's left marveling at the shade of her hair in the torchlight.

"Your Majesty?"

Dagon, his most senior Captain of the Guard, is trying to get his attention.

"Hmm? Oh yes, what were you saying?" Thranduil asks, wanting to kick himself for looking like a fool.

"I was inquiring as to where you would like me to put Captain Tauriel now that she has returned to duty? I would have placed her myself, but since I still do not have full knowledge of her duties, I wouldn't want to misplace her."

_Someone is still mad about being left out of the loop on the made up special mission_, Thranduil thinks, not missing Dagon's snarky tone.

Tauriel is standing a couple feet behind the older Captain, hands clasped behind her back and staring at the ground. She looks tired, and refuses to meet his gaze.

"Place her in charge of one of the new expanded patrols," Thranduil commands.

_Now she looks at me._

There is excitement in her eyes, and he can tell she is fighting a smile.

"As you wish, your Majesty," Dagon concedes.

"I'd like a full debrief tonight. Inform all patrol leaders to be present at dusk."

Since they began expanding their watch on the surrounding area, things have gotten a bit more perilous than the norm.

There have been an abnormal amount of spider nests discovered, the creatures are spreading like a plague. Then there has been the issue of the Orcs left from the battle, usually found roaming in groups of four or five.

They aren't difficult to dispatch in those numbers. Thranduil is thankful of their volatile nature, it's what keeps the numbers so low. If they attempt to travel in any larger groups, the Orcs usually end up killing one another off while struggling for power.

Dagon says he will pass on news of the meeting, and he and Tauriel excuse themselves to begin their duties.

On her way out Tauriel briefly pauses in the doorway to look back at him. She looks as if she has something to say, but she doesn't speak and soon leaves him on his own.

_Be careful,_ he thinks as she walks away.

A few hours later, while going over the new trading roster for King Bard, Thranduil receives another visitor. This time one much less welcome.

"You cannot allow this!" Lord Haewon complains, throwing the door open as he barges through.

There is a guard trailing him, looking uneasy, as if unsure whether he should haul the councilman away or not. Thranduil shakes his head no and the guard retreats to just outside the room.

"Lord Haewon," the King drawls, taking not of the other man's split lip, "to what do I owe this pleasure?"

"My son resigned from the Guard this morning!"

"I am well aware."

"You must stop this! Do not accept his resignation, he is confused," Haewon argues.

"He did not seem confused when I spoke to him."

"You've already seen him?"

"Yes. When I heard of his resignation I thought he might need a new job. So I offered him a place among the court musicians."

"You… what?" the councilman's face is turning a vivid shade of red.

Thranduil does not respond, instead trying to return his attention to the papers spread before him.

"He— he assaulted me! Last night, during the feast. I want him punished!"

At this, Thranduil can no longer hold his temper. He stands from his desk and approaches Lord Haewon, sneering angrily.

"I am well aware of that as well," the King discloses, tone clipped. "Arradon admitted to me his crime when we spoke. He also told me why he did it."

The councilman tries to keep his head held high, but he can't hide the sudden apprehension in his eyes.

"Be grateful it is only your lip that is split," Thranduil tells him. "Had I been there, _it would be your head."_

Lord Haewon swallows audibly, but does not move as Thranduil returns to his seat, and calls for the guard waiting outside.

"Please see the councilman out," he commands.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>This chapter is probably the shortest in a while, but it was a difficult one to write. This is probably my third rewrite of it, honestly. I know there isn't very much interaction between our favorite pair, but I'll make up for it soon ;)

Hoping to have the next (longer) chapter up by Sunday!


	13. Spiders

The wind breezing through the leaves is brisk, but refreshing, and Tauriel closes her eyes while inhaling deeply.

_I've missed this_, she thinks. _The open woods, the fresh air… the feeling of freedom that comes when you step outside the kingdom gates._

Despite the forest being dangerous and sickly, no longer the lush green paradise of the past, it is as Tauriel has always known it, and she considers it part of _home._

"This way," she whispers, hearing the cracking of a branch off in the distance.

She signals the other members of her patrol, and they start out, stealthily weaving through the twisted roots and branches.

It was a lot easier than she was anticipating going back to work and taking charge.

There are four soldiers in addition to herself in Tauriel's new patrol: Grond, Echtel, Magol, and Thanben. She's vaguely familiar of them in the fact that she's worked with them before on occasion, but she wouldn't go as far as saying she really _knows _them.

Thanben and Magol are twins, identical in their dark hair and eyes. Brother and sister born into a family that has always served as soldiers for the kingdom. They are much older than Tauriel, but like her they are orphans. Their father died in battle over a thousand years ago, and their mother wasted away from her loss.

From just observing them during this first patrol, Tauriel can already see they have a close bond. The brother, Thanben, rarely speaks, yet somehow Magol knows exactly what he wants or needs and she communicates for him.

Echtel, Tauriel suspects, will drive her insane before their first week together is done. He's a bit of card, always cracking jokes or making snarky comments. Which, in general she would not mind, but when they are trying to navigate silently through the overgrown underbrush it is a different story.

She had wanted to risk giving their position away by backhanding him after he made some remark about Ents dying out because "all the ladies need a good hedge trimming." The fact that he has the exact same shade of hair as Legolas does nothing to ease her annoyance.

Then there is Grond.

_He is quite peculiar, _she must admit.

To begin with, he is probably the largest elf Tauriel has ever seen. Not height wise, though he is tall, but his width and bulk. Grond is strangely muscular for an elf. Then there is the fact that he doesn't wear his sandy brown hair in braids, or down at all for that matter. He wears it up in a messy bun.

Despite his size, and overall gruff appearance, Grond is a quiet speaker. His soft completely non-intimidating voice seems so strange coming out of his mouth. That is when he _actually_ speaks. He's not as quiet as Thanben, but he still rarely interacts with the other members of the group.

Suddenly there is another loud cracking noise just beyond the next copse of trees. Tauriel holds her hand up and draws the company to a halt, listening.

They are trying to track a trail back to a suspected spider nest, just outside the normal patrol borders. As much as she had wanted to set out immediately to explore the new areas open to her, Tauriel decided to do the logical thing and slowly work on expanding outward, clearing threats as they go.

The prominent sound of pincers clacking makes the hair on the back of her neck stand up, but it drives Echtel into action.

He darts past her, ignoring Tauriel's halt, and dives through the thicket of branches in front of them.

Growling in frustration, but unable to let him mount an attack alone, Tauriel signals the remaining three to join Echtel.

They charge forward to find six spiders awaiting them in a small, web coated, clearing.

The company divides, each tackling their own spider, while simultaneously trying to avoid getting stuck in the sticky web.

Tauriel dispatches her spider easily enough, driving her blade into the beast's maw when it hisses at her. Turning around she finds her patrol members are all handling themselves effectively.

All except for Echtel.

He misstepped and his foot is caught in the web. The sixth and last remaining spider is descending on him while he remains completely unaware.

Sighing, Tauriel draws her bow and lets an arrow fly. It soars right over Echtel's shoulder pulling his attention to the beast just as it collapses next to him.

"Thanks," he says, tossing her a wink.

"What were you thinking?" she demands, marching across the clearing towards him.

"What?"

"You disobeyed my order and foolishly charged in!"

"And we handled it. What's the big deal?" he shrugs, still attempting to free his foot.

"The big deal? How about the fact that we were tracking those spiders back to the nest!"

Instead of responding, Echtel just gestures the clearing.

"Take a look around!" Tauriel tells him, waving her arms. "This is not a nest. It is a food cache. _A trap._ This was a rest stop along their way back to the _actual _nest. You've possibly cost us another day or two. Now we'll have to find another trail, because they certainly won't use this one again."

"Alright, I'm sorry," he apologizes, not looking at all concerned.

"Disobey a direct order again and you'll be off my patrol and stuck in the palace guarding the King's wine cellar."

_Mistakes will not be tolerated,_ she rationalizes to herself. _Mistakes get people killed._

"Captain, over here."

It's Grond, calling her to the opposite side of the clearing.

"I think I found another path leading away from here, different from the one we followed in," he says.

"Good work," she praises, patting his shoulder. "Let's move out."

"Can I get some help over here?" Echtel calls, pointing to his web covered foot.

"Figure it out yourself," Tauriel says, turning away, "that's what you prefer anyway."

They press on, with Grond leading the way as the most experienced tracker.

The air around them grows colder as the light begins to dim, and Tauriel knows they should turn back soon, but a stubborn part of her doesn't want to return on her first day back with nothing to show but a half dozen dead spiders.

If the others have any concerns about calling it a day, they keep it them to themselves, focusing only on moving forward.

Dusk is upon them when they finally find something, though its is something none of them could anticipate.

"Oh my," Tauriel whispers, looking around in shock.

X

"Someone is missing," Thranduil states, scanning his council room.

"It's Tauriel, your Majesty," Dagon tells him. "Her patrol hasn't yet returned."

Of course he knew Tauriel was the one missing, however Thranduil was trying to pass off his worry as casually as possible.

"Let's continue without her," he says. "I'll deal with her tardiness later. Dagon, any news from your rounds?"

"We found some Orc tracks cutting through the western corner of the kingdom. They traveled on our land for about two leagues before cutting back over the western border. I estimate a group of five, maybe six."

Thranduil frowns and makes a note, then spreads out a map and has Dagon mark his findings.

"Captain Liel?" the King asks the woman to Dagon's left. "What did you find?"

"Nothing, your Majesty. My patrol rechecked the recently cleared nests to be sure no spiders moved back in, and we found them still deserted."

"Good, good," he says, making another note.

They continue on, going around the room in order, all the guards relaying their findings. Most have found nothing new, or out of the ordinary, and Thranduil starts to hope the worst is behind them.

A few mention finding rogue spiders here and there, and only one other person found any signs of orcs.

The most troubling aspect of the evening is that at no point during the meeting does Tauriel arrive.

Thranduil tries to ignore the niggling sense something is wrong, and pushes aside the urge to send out a search party.

_She probably got carried away with her new freedom outside the normal patrol borders._

After everyone has a chance to discuss their patrols, Thranduil thanks them for their hard work and dedication before dismissing them.

He holds Dagon back to strategize any changes they may want to make to the paths they patrol. About ten minutes into their revisions Tauriel bursts into the room, wide-eyed and short of breathe.

"Forgive my lateness, my King," she asks, giving a small bow.

"I'll leave you two alone," Dagon offers, clearly biting his tongue.

"No, Captain," Tauriel says, holding up her hand to stop him. "You'll want to hear this."

"Go on," Thranduil encourages, looking her over for signs of injury and reassuring himself she looks fine.

"My patrol and I spent the day tracking a spider's nest just over the border. One of my soldiers got a little eager and attacked the spiders we _were _tracking—"

"Echtel," Captain Dagon supplies, and Tauriel nods.

"Indeed," she says, annoyed. "We were however able to pick up the trail and it led us to the largest spider nest I have ever seen. There were a hundred of them at least… most likely more."

"We should send you back out with reinforcements first thing tomorrow morning," Thranduil suggests. "I'm assuming you didn't attempt to take out a nest that size with just five of you."

"That's the thing, my King. They were already dead."

Thranduil frowns, positive he must have misheard her.

"Dead? Hundreds of spiders, outside the border… dead?"

Dagon looks just as surprised as he feels, and moves to look over the map they had been marking.

"None of our groups have been that far," the Captain says, tracing a finger over the map, "and certainly someone would have mentioned taking out that large of a nest."

"It wasn't us," Tauriel tells them. "It was Orcs. I found this."

She holds out her hand and Thranduil approaches her to inspect the small shard resting on her palm.

He wraps his fingers around her wrist to hold her hand steady as he inspects the item, and hears her sharp intake of breath at his touch. When he glances up to meet her gaze she looks away.

"It's a broken arrowhead," he says. "Definitely of Orcish origin."

"Orcs?" Dagon asks. "To kill that many spiders… that would have to be an unprecedented group of survivors. Could you tell how many?"

"No, the tracks were too muddled from the fighting," Tauriel answers.

"Show me where this was on the map," Thranduil requests.

She hesitates, and Thranduil realizes he's still holding Tauriel's wrist. Feeling sheepish he releases her.

Tauriel takes them through everything she saw and noticed, marking the map as she goes.

When she finishes all three fall into silence.

"A group large enough to do that kind of damage can only mean one thing," Dagon whispers.

"The Orcs have a new leader," Thranduil finishes.

X

Shortly after the new revelation, Captain Dagon excuses himself. He leaves to go double the night patrols, wanting security upped as much as possible with an enormous band of Orcs potentially on their doorstep.

Tauriel is left alone with Thranduil, and tries to find a way to take her leave. Until she figures out what is going on inside of her own mind, she's not sure she should be around the King on her own.

"I… I should—"

"Tauriel," Thranduil interrupts, "please allow me to apologize for last night. I did not wish to make you feel uncomfortable. I'm not sure what came over me."

"No need to apologize, my King. I've pushed the whole incident from my mind," she lies.

"I heard about what happened in the hall last night."

She grimaces, hoping he won't have to punish Arradon.

"Arradon told me about the terrible things Lord Haewon said to you. I'm so sorry."

"That's not your fault," Tauriel insists. "He's a cruel, hateful, man."

"Nevertheless—"

"He did mention something I didn't understand," she interrupts, her curiosity getting the best of her. "He mentioned something about _lost jewels_… and suggested you, um, sent me to get them from the dwarves."

He turns away from her, but just before he does Tauriel swears she sees a flash of pain in his eyes.

"I'm sorry," she says. "I shouldn't have asked. You don't have to answer."

"They belonged to my late wife," he says, voice soft and head bowed.

_Leave it… just leave it…_

"How did the dwarves come into possession of them?"

_Was that really necessary? _she asks herself.

"I gave them to the dwarves," Thranduil tells her, turning back to face her once more. "She was wearing them, white gems of pure starlight, when she died. The jewels survived, though the setting did not. I sent them to Erebor to be reset."

"And then the dragon came and took the mountain?"

"Smaug came later. Thrór summoned me when the necklace was completed; it was only when I arrived and he showed me the piece that he named his price. In exchange for crafting the necklace he demanded to keep it as payment for his work."

Tauriel's heart swells in sympathy.

"That is terrible. How could he do that?"

"It was the dragon sickness, he was already taken by it by then. It was not long after that the dragon came."

"And the jewels were lost to you," she says sadly.

"Until now. The halfling, Bilbo, returned them to me."

Thranduil reaches a hand inside his robe and pulls out the most stunning necklace she has ever seen. The gems seem to be pulsing, giving off their own light.

"Beautiful," Tauriel murmurs, in total awe.

"Yes," he says simply, but when she finally looks up at him, and away from the jewels, she sees the King is not staring at the necklace.

Her stomach flips, but it isn't an entirely unpleasant sensation.

_Knock knock._

"Your Majesty," an aide opens the door and strides purposefully in.

Tauriel jumps back a few inches, feeling unexplainably guilty, and Thranduil is quick to tuck the necklace away.

"Yes, Nimmon?" he asks the aide, not taking his eyes off of Tauriel.

"Sorry to interrupt, I just wanted to inform you that councilwoman Neleth is here to see you."

The King blinks slowly and sighs, looking to his aide.

"Tell her I'll be with her momentarily."

"I should be going," Tauriel says. "It was a long day, and I've got another one tomorrow, so…"

"Yes, of course. Rest yourself, eat, and be safe tomorrow."

"I will, thank you. Good evening, my King."

"Goodnight, Captain."

Tauriel lets herself out and sighs once in the hallway.

"Are you back to work then?"

Approaching her is the golden haired councilwoman who took the floor from Lord Haewon during Tauriel's trial.

"Yes," she replies. "Lady Neleth, isn't it?"

"Yes, yes. Glad to see you are feeling well. I always feel better knowing those who protect us are in the best shape."

"Thank you," Tauriel smiles politely.

"Well, I won't keep you, dear. I'm just on my way to speak with the King. We have some… _catching up_ to do after last night," the councilwoman giggles.

It takes willpower for Tauriel to prevent her smile from turning into a sneer.

"Good evening," she says, and takes her leave, heading straight for her room.

_After last night… what does that mean?_

_Do you really care?_

_Well, no… why—why would I?_

When she gets to her bedchambers, Arodeth is there waiting for her.

"How was it? How are you? You're back much later than I was expecting? Are you hungry?" the maid pelts her with questions one after another.

"Take a breath, woman," Tauriel laughs. "Have you eaten yet?"

"Not yet, no."

"Alright. I am going to go take a bath. Why don't you grab dinner for two and I'll tell you everything while we eat?"

Arodeth smiles and agrees, leaving Tauriel to get cleaned up. She makes it a quick bath, knowing she's in for a lot of questions and wanting to try to get more rest than she did the previous night.

Sure enough, as they eat Arodeth hardly gives Tauriel a chance to chew between answers.

She wants to know about whom Tauriel is working with, if she ran into any trouble out there, if she feels like she is fully recovered… and on and on.

Luckily, by the time they reach dessert, a glazed seed cake, Arodeth seems to have dried up her well of questions, which gives Tauriel a chance to ask a few of her own.

"Arodeth?" she starts, staring at her lap shyly. "Do you think how long you know— or knew— someone affects how much you can love them?"

"Oh, well… I think there are many different _kinds_ of love. Love at first sight, love that is built over many years, love that exists when two souls recognize themselves in one another, and many, many others. I don't think how much you can love someone can be so trivially measured. It's something only you can know and judge."

"Is it possible to love someone, and miss them, but still find yourself yearning for another? Does that mean you don't or didn't love the first?"

Arodeth scoots across the bed, closer to Tauriel, and pulls the redhead's head down to rest on her shoulder.

"Dear, the heart is a fickle thing, often with terrible timing. Do not feel guilty for _feeling_. Personally, I believe love is infinite, ever expanding, and there is always enough to go around."

"Thank you."

Tauriel leaves her head resting on the other woman's shoulder, grateful she has someone to talk to. She is still confused, but the guilt that had been gnawing on the edge of her mind eases a bit.

X

"Lady Neleth, how may I help you this evening?"

Thranduil is still standing in front of his desk when the councilwoman enters, and she sidles up right beside him.

"Firstly, I just wanted to tell you how much fun I had last night," she says.

"It was quite an enjoyable evening, wasn't it?"

He slips around behind his desk and takes a seat, causing her to frown.

"Secondly, the Council has received news that Lord Elrond is travelling this way. He should be arriving in Mirkwood in about two weeks time."

"Really? I wonder what brings him this way."

"I heard he's coming to speak to the King of Dale, and the new King Under the Mountain."

"Ah, yes, I suppose I should have expected that," Thranduil admits. "We should have a welcome dinner for them."

"That was another reason I came to you! I thought perhaps we could plan it… together."

"Oh, that won't be necessary. I trust your judgment, Lady Neleth. I'm sure you are more than capable to handle this on your own."

"Thank you for your confidence, my King," she tells him, sounding disappointed.

"Let me know what you come up with."

Neleth brightens back up at this.

"Yes, of course! Goodnight, your Majesty."

When she leaves, Thranduil groans loudly and decides he is really going to have to be more cautious in the future when selecting dance partners.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>Thank you for all the kind words on the last chapter. After having such a difficult time getting it where I wanted it, the feedback made it all worthwhile.


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